There are pictures on walls
Some dirty, others blanketed and dusty.
You might find them Littered about
or tossed and forgotten.
Into boxes, chests and dump-yards-
a warmth to those that are lost.
All of them carry footprints,
Milestones, and memories of
Well defined ticks on a clock.
THE moments we hope stay safe even if
Stuck together, taped and glued.
The only longer lasting life-
a picture in time
The faded, water marked and stained
all of it that is, is intertwined.
It is the moment that makes us.
Pictures in living color- black and white
Cataloged and recycled for time
Lived in and bestowed to dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem