The Little Backroom Poem by Amouta Stardancer

Wishes long forgotten,
memories of pain,
hopes and dreams,
slashed and slain.
Pains of broken hearts,
like glass,
shattered on the floor,
tears long dry, weep again.
Even happiness,
faded yellow pictures,
of smiles long ago,
dancing, well-dressed figures,
held still in time.
Moments I’ll,
never see again,
locked away,
like long lost friends,
in the little backroom of my mind.
Secrets told,
promises broken,
all are laid and set,
as token,
to the demons of my past.
Nostalgian corners,
full of old phrases, old friends,
music, movies,
and outdated trends.
Whispers of ones,
I’ve not seen in years,
mangled memories,
toils, pains, and fears.
Walls of innocence,
stained in blood,
what the years washed away,
return in a flood.
In that little backroom,
stuck in the past,
home of those moments dead