as they say,
the height of lies, hypocrisy,
some fam'ly photos I've observed
are quite absurd, artistic forms of such
deception, happy smiles with
little semblance to reality.
Perhaps each heart, however,
holds the hope of finding
what they've lost once more,
retaining memory of former
closeness, if not the touch.
There are two types I've known:
the ones who recognize dysfunction,
own it, deal with it as best they
can, and those who say, "Not us."
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013
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