‘Life in pictures’

Her first cry, first laugh, first tantrum.
I am like the camera that captures her life.
The bond we hold is strong, the one the pages hold.
The emotions she reeks that make my pages fade.
I am like a fly that keeps on following.
When she is sobbing her sorrows into her pillow,
the words are washing away on the page.
The screams, the banter until the bang of the slamming door,
that leaves my cover shaking.
As the applause roles up and her face grins wide on the stage,
the pictures are glowing.
A click of the camera shows her leaping in and out at ballet,
and the picture is placed.
Each image tells something, but no image tells the story,
But my album, you see it all, you see her.
But one day when i have nothing to say,
when i have run out of pages.
The world turns dark as shadows start to surround me.
There i sit on a shelf, in a cupboard,
in the old games room.
That was it, her petit figure turning away.
Me now forgotten.
A connection that is lost and old.