In the attic of my heart, within a dusty box,
lie whispers of the past, frozen in time.
Faces of youth, laughter captured in black and white,
each crease a story, each smile a chapter untold.
The edges frayed, the colors faded,
but in these fragile moments, life is vivid.
Old photographs, holding hands with ghosts,
whispering secrets of days when they were the moment.
As I flip through these echoes, I feel them,
the joy, the sorrows, the mundane turned sacred.
For a moment, time reverses, and I am there,
in the sepia tones of yesteryears, dancing in the light.