By Cameron Joseph Walker
Please help me find my camera.
I have searched the tops and toes,
Of boxes stacked with weathered shoes
And piles of children’s clothes.
The photos on that roll of film
Aren’t valuable to me.
But in them lies a haunting clue;
Just like this elegy.
Of course, there is no audio
Or movement in those frames.
But if they could just catch a glimpse,
It might reduce their pain.
I’ve asked for help to find the thing
Though that unsettles most.
As no one cares to lend a hand
To spooky attic ghosts.
You want to know what happened here;
Just ask, and I’ll oblige.
You want to know what broke my neck.
You’re asking how I died.
All Hallow’s Eve, my kids dressed up.
We looked at them with pride.
“They’re all grown up, let’s take a pic
To celebrate this night!”
So up into the attic, I went
crawling step by step.
And found my father’s camera,
Though first I had to check…
I did not want to want to waste a shot
So turned the lens to face.
A cheesy grin so dad-like
I’d be punished with this fate:
When smiling for the camera,
I would click and click again.
And when that roll of film was full,
It signified my end.
The flashing light had blurred my sight.
I couldn’t see the hole,
That lead down 30 ladder steps
Back down into my home.
I need to find that camera soon,
To show them how I died.
Cause when the policemen came to scene,
They ruled it suicide.
Cameron watched several niche video essays instead of writing a bio. You can stalk him @cameron_joseph_walker on Instagram if you’d like!
