Photograph

She sleeps in a bed of thorns

A shadow lurks behind these walls

She can hardly breath

A heart that says nothing at all but screams

She reaches out a hand to touch mine

An overflowing cup of anguish so divine

Invisible,and yet so palpable

In her silence she speaks louder than anyone more able

Her story can never be told

T'is a broach too cold

We will listen but will not hear

See, but it will never be clear

Touch,but never feel

A wound that may never heal

Then in a whisper she tells me to look at her

I turn with a hanging tear

And then I find it is all in there

It is all in her photograph

And in that photograph all I see is me

Me in there

All along reaching out to my own fear

Father please, don't let them drop

My tears...