I dropped this one before for a friend who wrote this for her mother.

Holding this crumpled picture between my two thumbs, seeing your beautiful smile, your white lace gloves.

Picture Perfect Memory.

Fifteen years later, and things aren't so great, a reflection in the mirror flows great tears of hate.

Sheer unhappiness with what you've become, blaming your children for what you have done.

Angry words I HATE YOU only add to the madness, Friday night, 11:30, and I don't know where my dad is.

Jump into my sea of tears, open your mouth and drink in my fears.

Act like a mother, for once, I beg you, eat something please, I wish I could save you.

You're wasting away, but please let me eat, don't make me suffer for your self-defeat.

I miss that smile, the one from the photo, I no longer have that angel to go to.

I ripped up your picture in a fit of rage, my precious keepsake of you crumbling from age.

We may have grown apart from pain and misery, but I swear that you will always be beautiful... if not to others, at least to me.