Posted in haunted, poem, poems, poetry, poets, room, spirit, talking, walls, write, writers, writing

The room

Looking around this dark quite room
The walls are talking of people gone by
They all went to sleep in the bed where i lay
Sitting on the seat where my jacket laid
The floor is marked with each step they took
As they pass and met in that quite room

The pictures have seen so many faces , that have to so many places
The carpet is stained with love and blood
As the room was more then just a club
Each corner was met by another wall ,that spoke of the people that have passed of old

The walls maybe tainted and the people have gone but the spirits will never go they have never gone

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