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Old pictures on the mantle
Holding secrets of yesteryear,
One of you and me smiling
from ear to ear.
They hold whispers of
of the past,
We all know they go
way too fast.
We've grown so much,
Old pictures are the
only way we keep in touch.
Our flame has died like
a melted candle,
But I still have the old
pictures on the mantle.