THE WALLS REMEMBER WHAT THE WORLD FORGETS

The Walls Remember What the World Forgets The walls remember what the world forgets — Every whispered prayer, every silent regret. Every kiss by candle, every scream in war, Every soul who’s begged, “I can’t take this anymore.” They’ve soaked in blood, they’ve heard soft moans, They’ve echoed laughter through broken homes. They’ve watched first dances, they’ve felt last breaths, Held secrets carved deep like names of the dead. The walls remember what the world lets fade — The promises made, the love betrayed. The lullabies sung to a child at night, The fists that followed when out went the light. They’ve stood through peace, they’ve stood through pain, Watched lovers unite, then curse each other’s name. They’ve heard confessions no priest will hear, The trembling whispers between hate and fear. The walls remember where darkness crept, Where dreams collapsed, where angels wept. Where hope hung thin, like a thread on a nail, Where the strongest hearts were bound to fail. But walls hold light in the cracks they keep, In the murals drawn by those who weep. Graffiti prayers and scars of youth, Etched with rage, and carved in truth. They remember the love that war can’t kill, The quiet resolve, the iron will. The arms that held when no one came, The ones who stayed through the deepest shame. And if you press your ear to stone, You’ll hear a chorus, soft but known: The walls still hum with the lives they’ve met — They remember the things the world forgets.