Appreciate The Little Things

I hold the photos
 of memories of the forgotten.

I sit, on an old shelf

For people to admire

I sit all day and night.

No other purpose in the world.

The people smile. But not at me.

They look at the photos, the paintings.

But not at me.

Many walk by, not noticing.

Not noticing the small intricate details I have.

The gold trim, carved flowers.

They just notice the painting.

And while it’s nice, to be a sitting stone for someone else to take the spotlight.

I can’t help but feel lonely.