All The Pretty Pictures (Well darling, even yours fade)

All the pretty pictures
We took in the park,
Or we took on the beach,
Digging in the sand
With our bare feet.
End up in a box
Scribbled with half
Remembered names.
It's sad to see
That when I close my
Eyes at night
I can't remember your face.
I could not count my lovers,
I can not recall their names;
They are buried in a box,
Deep in my closet
In some cluttered grave-
Less moments I recall
And more ghosts of feelings
I don't remember having.
Even pretty pictures fade.