The Photo Album

 

We turn the pages one by one,

and look on faces from the past.

Each one a father or a son,

but will our mem'ries of them last?

 

Our Aunts and great Aunts, Grandma's too,

our cousins back through all the years.

Do they all smile in costumes new,

or hide the drudgery and tears.

 

And as we go to times gone by,

and see the generations there.

Should we ask that in their time,

will our descendants really care.

 

Will they look back as we do now,

With curious gaze and misty eyes

In years to come will their head bow

and think awhile of our demise

 

Who's shoes will tread where mine once trod?

And find those things for which I yearned.

When I am laid beneath the sod,

No more of life left to be learned.

 

And who will fill the space I leave

When time is done in natures scheme

who'll reach heights I could not achieve

and dream the dreams I dared to dream.

 

Lets hope our spirit lives beyond

this brief and frantic earthly stay.

We can't expect a magic wand,

but somehow there must be a way.

 

For I believe, our spirits live,

'they' will be there, when we are not.

And photo album pictures give,

me hope that we'll not be forget.

 

So who will miss me through the years,

when I am just a memory.

Will thoughts of me bring smiles or tears,

Or will they say, 'now who was he?'

 

For after life what will there be,

When mortal feelings are no more.

Will those who follow, care for me,

Or see me off then close the door.