I was obsessed with “picture perfect”,
I searched the world inside and out,
For a single moment I could say,
Is what life’s all about,
My life was viewed through lenses,
My camera a medal worn with pride,
I thought it held the moments,
That I’d always remember inside,
But looking around at photos,
I can’t remember how I felt,
The noises that the world made,
Or the way the warm air smelt,
I don’t remember how the day was,
If it was going good or bad,
I’ve just a snapshot of a moment,
That nobody certainly had,
So I gave away my camera,
And now use my looks instead,
To take photos for the scrapbook,
That I’ve made inside my head,
I always thought my photos,
Were ways to make my moments last,
But you remember life much better
When you don’t view it all through the glass.
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