You turn the pages and you meet old friends,
Old lovers, old half-way-betweens;
The long engrossing chronicle extends
From nappied infancy though tumid teens
To just last week. The Kodacolor lends
A gloss to all of the remembered scenes,
And gives your story a new clean perspective.
You turn the pages, keen as a detective.

This journey through the past leaves you unshaken;
These pictures have the charm of history.
Though you recall - the night that snap was taken
You soaked a pillow in your misery -
Yet you survived, you somehow saved your bacon
And lived to beat a different tragedy.
So, jauntily, and with no sense of doom,
You close the album, and you leave the room.

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