Polaroid photos pepper the walls,
held up by drying masking tape
that holds on only through sheer force of will.

They appear older than they are,
aged by the elements, time,
and the weight of the stories they hold.

Each one alone tells more
than any words every could,
no matter how many you used
or how you arranged them.

A collage of moments
frozen in time that you 
would otherwise forget.

Yet they remain,
steadfast keepers of the past,
telling the stories
that words never could.