The picture was of the three of us
Grinning and waving
I put it in an old frame
And kept if for saving

We moved on
And days came and went
But the only change in the picture
Was a small penny-like dent

Things changed quickly
But that day was paralyzed
I thought things were the same
Until I began to realize

We were all changing
And nothing could be done
To bring back what was in the picture
All we could do was take another one

Time past and the frame
Grew dust and grime
I became aware nothing could be done
To turn back the time

Finally I could no longer stand it
And took the picture out of its frame
What was the point? I reckoned If it only reminded me
That things would never be the same?