Photograph Poem by T J

My presence is wrapped in yellowed grace,
and youth trapped in a wrinkled place
Old and cracked like chapped lips,
curved and bent like curled tips
Gripped by age, let me step out,
turn the pages, pull me out
Unlock the doors, break the frames,
let the cages burn up in flames

Breathe life back into me,
untie the binds, set me free
All that was new, is lost and bygone,
so, wind up the clocks, let them tick again
Let me soak in sun and rain,
now hand your child a pastel crayon
Let him paint me anew,
in vibrant colours of red and blue.