Pictures hang out to dry

I stared at the wall, which he did care about, the effort put into the picturesque created, not the emotion that it brought out... It was there, on face value, until then when I felt nothing!

Pictures dangling upon a three scallop string
And hung up for colour on the blank back wall
Captured moments pegged up out to dry
Look like they're on sale at a merchant's stall.

Smiles stare from the space of small screens
Within them lies of happiness a trimmed story
To be read when grim and the tunnel is slim
The gallery imposes on you a silent memory.

There it pretends but it's just a posture portrait
That the camera clicked in a careful manner
It's there to breath in a life to keep it alive
A desire to not break a vow, or a forever endeavor.

The time that has past on the silting hourglass
On each there is a date stamp for a life emblem
To revive the rushes and rebuild the ridges
They resemble an achievement anthology album.

Long forgotten minutes of love all wrapped up
And fortune and fate forbids foreign feelings
Those which once engulfed a passionate pulse
Have turned into anger and bitter steamings.

An urge to rip it down and tear away the exhibit
Stop the silent smirks of sarcastic mockery
To ease away undeserving chants and charms
And to live in their made up version of reality!

Author's Note

An impulsive write!