If I could talk, If I could tell you everything I’ve seen, I could tell you stories you would never want to believe. No one knows what I have seen with my all-seeing eyes. No one is alive to tell the secrets I’ve overheard.
I’ve seen little pieces of heaven and little pieces of hell I’ve heard whispers of tenderness and screams of hatred I’ve seen love spoken to one and given to another I’ve heard a heart breaking and footsteps leaving.
Oh, How hard it is to watch life fade away, How hard it is to watch love grow cold, How hard it is to listen to every pained cry, How hard it is to bear witness to these images And be unable to speak one word.
You will never hear from me. My mouth is shut, but my eyes and ears are forever open. It is my curse, to be able to stand so tall, so straight, so strong.
To bear the weight of the world To hold the roof over the murder’s head and be unable to break To shelter the demons of the world and separate the angels
I cannot tell you whom exactly I’ve seen. I cannot tell you what exactly I’ve heard.
Parts of this I really relate to: "I could tell you stories you would never want to believe."
A good thing is if walls did speak you could listen to their stories while having a pint or two. You could get drunk next to bricks! And it would be an entirely sane thing. Would be a good excuse atleast ;-)
I truly love this piece. Is amazing, I love the end of the poem, I love the expressions and the words in it. You did a really good job sending your message to the reader. Well done :)
Ahhh, personification. [Y'know, I've often wondered the same thing about dogs; think of the number of times you've got changed, say, in front of a pet. How many sofa sessions have been interrupted, etc. The mind boggles!] You've got a wonderful sense of stifling futility in this, by using that apophasis. it paints an interesting picture, everything in its negative inversion, a shadowy reflection of the world as it really is. On top of that you have lovely flow and a great deal of pathos. You've somehow managed to make me empathise with bricks - and for this, I salute you. *_~
its amazing what goes on behind closed doors; the truth shows its ugly face when no one is looking. Every household is different, every family, person, friends, experiences. If walls could talk I'm sure they would have many tales to tell, too many to exploit in one person's lifetime.
Very interesting aspect! I love the fact that you though outside of the box, or in this case, withing the box.
My favorit line would have to be "To hold the roof over the murder’s head and be unable to break" because it really hits the heart.
Thank you :) Amazing poem!
~Yours truly, Rose