If Walls Could Speak
In the nooks and corners of a place
Memories are forever deeply etched
Residual energies of times gone past
Of things we thought would never last
If walls could speak, stories can be told
As it stood witness as events unfold
The joyous laughter, the playful banters
The muted cries for love gone asunder
The unrequited desire of a soul lost in a spell
The hushed whispers turning into shrill yells
The vague stares of a mind that could not cope
And the quiet prayers clinging for a little hope
The children’s sobs while they lay in bed
Anxious to awake for realities they dread
In the peaceful noise of the uneventful evening
Trouble looms in the dim brightness of the morning
In the daily routine of the cycle that continued
Numbness sets in on the fights that ensued
Wounding words leaving deep nasty scars
Fleshy sores less hurtful than verbal wars
As years passed, the walls remained erect
But not the bond of a home in utter neglect
The silent echoes resonating vividly in the room
Files of memories, piles of unfortunate gloom
To forget what must not be remembered
To conceal what must be eternally interred
To heal the scars still bleeding unseen cuts
Tore down those walls and shred what hurts.
Copyright © Meadow Morada | Year Posted 2016
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