If these walls could talk? I know they can.
I hear them whisper every night.
They do not speak unless it’s dark
And quiet down at morning’s light.
The corner wall’s the very worst,
The one that’s nearer to my bed.
He is a blatant listener,
Repeating every thing that’s said.
I heard him tell the walls and chairs,
“I hear her crying in her sleep.”
I can’t see why he doesn’t know,
There are some secrets he should keep.
“She holds her pillow to pretend
She’s not alone in that big bed.”
Walls have no hearts so they can’t feel
The sorrow when loved one is dead.
Now that I am left alone,
Their whispering is hard to bear.
As I have said, walls have no hearts
And little sympathy to share.