Old Wounds

Up the red brick stairs
Through the wrought iron door
Past the table and chairs
On the red hardwood floor

Past family portraits
On the salmon pink walls
Through an archway that leads
To freshly painted halls

Do you recall this room
With the pale violet paint
Where childhood memories
Are becoming less faint

Past the forbidden room
Where we both used to play
Until earlier years
Seemed to all slip away

Into the next room
With a stove that’s antique
Look out the window
Just to take a quick peek

There‘s a man with two kids,
A little girl and boy,
And they play everyday,
Their faces filled with joy

This is a memory
But once it was so real
Now that I have returned
At last old wounds can heal

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