As usual, don't own anything to do with it.
Please enjoy. D'know where it came from, but it's here now.
SSSS
There's a photo album, aged, faded, lying beneath the bed. It lies open in the dark, two pictures facing up, but no one stops to look. They've all taken time before to pause and take a glance, but the teardrops on the pages make them turn their backs. Those marks are old and long-since dried, memories of old and silent pain. Yet none can stand to gaze upon them for long without turning their eyes away.
The book has lain there a long, long time, pages unturned, the same two photos forever facing up. No one dares to close the cover, to disturb the tear-stained pages. And so it lies there, open, a silent memorial to a time that has passed and people who have gone.
The images have faded on the pages, lost their luster over time, once-precious memories, caught on paper and held with pealing yellowed tape. No one now can give name to the people in the pictures, to the grey-eyed girl in the baseball cap or the blond boy with a scar on his face. Those are forgotten, unspoken and unknown. Time has left them behind, out of memory, and out of mind, and yet the album still lies beneath that bed, untouched and undisturbed, still open, evidence of the ties that bind.
SSSS
So, whatcha think? Review and let me know. Just remember Thumper's rule: If you can't say something nice, don't say anything. Kay? No flames. Thanx! ~Seeker