If the walls could talk,

What stories would they tell?

Would they say their lives were wonderful?

Or would they say their lives were hell?

Would they tell of families that lived there?

How they moved in and moved out again?

Would they share their stories between them?

Or hide them until their end?

A story that I was told, by the walls that I lived in,

Talked of a man that lived there, and all his many sins.

His greed filled up his heart, left no room for anything more.

He filled those walls with possessions, but they never left the floor.

Items stacked neatly in boxes, safe in their plastic wrap.

Never had his greed, felt like such a trap.

He couldn’t face his pain, his mind crushing loneliness.

He knew what he had to do, he had never been more sure than this.

The walls watched in horror, as he held his fate in his hand.

He’d made his mind, followed through, now rots in wasted land.

If the wall could talk,

What stories would they tell?

Would they say they loved their lives, the good, the bad, the boring?

Would they share the hidden pain, trapped inside their shell?

Would they lie, say everything was fine?

Would they tell me secrets, would I tell them mine?

Would they be good friends, the only ones that cared?

Would they spit bitter words, regret the time they shared?

A story that I was told, by the walls that I lived in,

Talked of a woman that lived there, and all her many sins.

Her desire for the wicked was strong in her heart.

She didn’t really care that it tore her life apart.

She forgot her kids, found the money.

Her children didn’t understand, why she thought suffering was so funny.

She always had the needle, always had the high.

She didn’t care about her future, or the fact that she would die.

She lost herself along the way, never thought she’d see the day,

When her beautiful children would leave those walls, and she couldn’t make them stay.

If the walls could talk,

What stories would they tell?

Would they want more from their world?

Would they buy what the devil had to sell?

Would they want to take the easy way out?

Would they want to erase all their fears and all their doubt?

Would they crumble, saying they’d finally had enough?

Would they get sick of me, tell me to pack my stuff?

A story that I endured, with the walls that I lived in,

Was of my family that lived there, and all their many sins.

The man with the greed, rooted in his heart.

The woman with the needle that tore her life apart.

Those were my parents, both stolen from my world.

I cried to God, damned the earth, and watched as my life unfurled.

My brother had always been lost, couldn’t have been found.

Nothing could ever stop him til he was buried in the ground.

I was the last of my broken family, waiting to be saved.

Escape from my pain was the only thing I craved.

So then the walls were empty, nothing important in between.

Those walls had caused more harm than they had ever seen.