Behind These Red Brick Walls

I remember living quietly inside these red brick walls, a soul, wandering alone through those dark, empty halls, this is the place where I used to rest my weary head, now you, another poetic heart, are dreaming here instead. I was just a poet, a soul like you, so do not be afraid, this is where I once lived, and this is where I stayed, I want to whisper my secrets to you, late after midnight, just hear my faded words, and I will remain out of sight. There was a lonesome time when I wrote poetry, too, now I am here, to be your muse and inspire you, 100 years ago, I lived on the other side, only now, I dwell just behind these red brick walls, somehow. (A sequel to my poem, "These Red Brick Walls")