I wander
vacant halls
where life and laughter lived;
Hopes and Dreams
packed their bags.
I slept on;
I thought I heard
the hinge turn,
light steps
in the dappled dawn.
Wordlessly,
they latched,
and locked,
and left
through garden,
to curb,
to catch the yellow-sorrow cab.
Kick memories,
rattling,
down tiled halls;
Mark
the echo,
empty, cold;
No embers to be stirred.
Sadly beautiful poem. It touches something deep, deep inside of me. Nice one, Se
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