Memory Paints

Yesterday, a memory was paint,

Today the thought is fame.

Time comes and a portrait hangs,

Drawn from our hearts,

With sorrow, pain, and the bitter feelings that came.

Which remains behind yesterday’s drawn curtains.

Even joy, the insane laughter that didn’t felt like pain,

Pined down in our brains, did you saw the rain.

And the Kings and Queens, which a timeline they reign.

Everyday that passes by, consciousness blame,

A kiss on the cheek, a frown is a stain.

A wrinkle in time, Van Winkle wakes insane.

A past mourn but we are still the same,

Then, the angels come and call your name.