A golden picture in a silver frame,
Colors blend and become the same.
Memories mean more in the moment,
Then later in time.

The colors fade to gray,
And grow duller each and everyday.
It remains alone forgotten in the darkness,
With all it's glory, gathering dust.
But it still remains golden.

A golden picture in a silver frame,
The memory grows fainter as each day passes.
It lays alone unseen, hidden among,
All those worthless memories.

You try to grip tight to it,
But it slips away just easily as it came.
And just like that you forget it.
It gets replaced by just another,
Golden picture in a Silver frame.

The colors fade to gray,
And grow duller each and everyday.
It remains alone forgotten in the darkness,
With all it's glory, gathering dust.
But it still remains golden.