next door a room sits empty
like the one on down the hall
another friend has moved away
a voice has ceased to call
like furrows in the sand remain
the marks upon her door
where posters then called out her name
the paint is still once more
as an echo in the hallway comes
i think i hear her voice
perhaps we two could sit awhile
but now i have no choice
the mem'ries stir from time to time
some good, some ill--all past
the life we shared within these walls
was never meant to last
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
is it...could it be...but no, you'd have to rewrite it to talk of other levels or floors or stories since i'm going down with the ship, baby! :)
ReplyDeleteQuite sad, but well written :) I love the flow.
ReplyDeletethank you, platinummyr.
ReplyDeleteand no, m'dear dgfallon, you are not going down w/ it (unless you plan on burning it soon!) =D
An so it goes. Beautifully written, though. I guess it is the curse of life that people move on and nothing stays the same for more than a little while.
ReplyDelete