I wish these empty walls spoke to me,
Spoke their hearts out,
The darkest of thoughts they have heard of,
The painful marks of the fists,
The tiny crooked handwritings that tried saying something,
I wish the walls spoke to me about the screams it had heard all this while,
The heartbreaking cries,
The shattering vases that banged and fell of ,
I wish the empty walls spoke to me.
But how much of a fool could I be
of never noticing that
these walls had already been speaking
about all this since a long time.
© satanlover