Secrets

Secrets

You think because I’m old and withered,

I have nothing left to say?

Deep within these crumbling walls

lie secrets of summers gone,

when lilacs bloomed outside my door

sweet laughter danced over my windowsills.

Listen close,

you might hear a lover sigh a murmured promise,

of forever.

How foolish are the young.

A fine façade that fades so fast,

and leaves behind a summers song.

Even though the cold wind blows,

I still can hear you whisper

my name.

While tears fall silent,

in the snow.