On walls they hang in polished frames
And leer down on me
From their esteemed seats.
‘cause they unlike me can hold time still
In their old and withered arms.
How much I envy them
But alas, there’s nothing I can do.

I sit there for hours each day
And gaze fondly at the walls.
I see myself one foot long
Huddled in a bundle of blankets,
Or with my thumb in my first pudding pie.
I see my first Mickey Mouse cake
And my first present in hand.

And then I turn to the other wall
To see myself on my first bike.
Or celebrating my first triumph
With a small trophy in hand.
Or to find myself in a fancy dress
My tongue stuck between my teeth
A cuddly school boy, with mischief in his eyes.

And then in a corner of the room
I find a handsome, jolly youth
Partying with his ring of friends.
And then in those black robes
A degree in his hand.
A young gentleman with a happy life
Strong and tough and virile.

A pretty girl holds my hand,
I had found my first love.
I see her in her wedding gown
And the joy in her eyes.
And I see those happy days
That seemed to have flown off
Beyond our reach.

And then I see the same smile
Which had once been mine.
It plays across my sons face
In the same sweet joy.
Those polished frames I see each day
And smile slowly to myself.
But the days that have gone upset me not,
There are many more to come.

Nostalgia

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