Memories of you and me in this room.
Did the walls bear witness to every whisper, every moan?
Secrets in hearts forever entombed in pulsating chambers.
Our lies inscribed on scarred walls of crumbling plaster.
I touch the flakes of peeling paint.
Like frail promises, they disintegrate.
Press your ears to these walls.
Do you yet hear the faint pulse?
This poem was inspired by a conversation I had with my friend, Ivor.
Visit his poetry by clicking HERE!
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