Whispers Between Walls
he walls have ears, they tell me secrets,
Of mornings unseen and laughter forgotten.
I press my palm against the cold plaster,
And feel the echo of a thousand footsteps,
Some mine, some others’, all overlapping.
I reach through the silence with words
I do not speak aloud,
Hoping someone, somewhere,
Will hear me without hearing.
A shadow passes the window.
A smile from a stranger,
And for a second,
The world feels smaller,
And I am not alone.
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