My Camera
I blink.
I see.
I forget.
I try to scrape images from my brain
but they are too deep to touch.
How do I remember?
How do I feel what I felt at that moment?
You.
Sitting here in my hands
A little box that holds unimaginable power
Capturing the moments, the faces, the stories of my world
preserving them and keeping them true.
With you in my presence, I feel calm
because I know when my finger releases from your shutter
my life will be forever.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: