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The creaking floor, the broken frames,
A hollow stillness fills the air.
Each corner holds forgotten names,
But nothing feels like it was there.
The silence tells me more
Than words could ever pour.
I can’t step where we once stood,
The weight of time pulls me low.
Some doors can’t be opened twice,
And what’s left, I’ll never know.
The garden’s overgrown with weeds,
Its colors faded into gray.
The echoes of our distant needs
Have vanished, carried far away.
The walls remember every sigh,
The rooms recall what we forgot.
Each crack a place where dreams would die,
A map of things we wished were not.
The silence tells me more
Than words could ever pour.
I can’t step where we once stood,
The weight of time pulls me low.
Some doors can’t be opened twice,
And what’s left, I’ll never know.
