we have these words we cannot speak
when all the feelings freeze our tongue
but when these moments capture us
we capture them within a song
a poem, a novel, a golden photograph
brings back the things we no longer do
the kisses, laughs, the mortified looks
still curve our lips if we forget how to
our four a.m. eyes as we go to bed
drift from the coldness of the misty morn
into the pain of young weary heads
while we wake up in a freezing afternoon
or how 'bout the horrific smell
of overcooked banana cakes
and all the ringing of the bells
while fireworks fly into the air
though time forgets to look back at
the people we have been
it's great to have them trapped within
the wooden box herein
we have these words we cannot speak
when all the feelings freeze our tongue
but when these moments capture us
we capture them while we're still young
for age will hold on to the past
to let us know where we belong
for age will hold on to the past
to let us know where we belong
Story