PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The silence of this house
speaks volumes about the people
who used to live here.
I contain the fragment
of their memory.
They speak to me,
only I hear them.
Only I respond.
They remind me of the hello
and goodbye of life.
The coming and the going of
the real world.
Better here, in this imagination,
where voices still speak and argue.
Where embraces are still exchanged and felt.

They are all gone now, these people.
These people allied through
common ancestry.
Children now adults.
Adults now children.
Not living in one voice.
Not loving in common bond.

Still I hear them.
Walking footsteps
crafting images
for my decapitated heart.