The walls are always listening

If walls could talk, they'd recount a tale of woe,

Of lives once shattered, love that turned to snow.

I am a witness, to all that's come to pass,

In a home where laughter once echoed, now a bleak and empty space.

I've felt the pain, the abuse, the fear,

The cruel words, the screams, the constant tear.

The man of the house, a monster in disguise,

His anger and rage, a never-ending prize.

I remember the day he first moved in,

With false promises of love and grin.

But soon, his true colors were revealed,

And the abuse began, the wound was sealed.

The woman, she suffered, in silence and pain,

Her spirit broken, her heart shattered like rain.

Tears I felt, as they soaked into my skin,

Her silent sobs tearing me apart within.

The children, too, trapped in this endless night,

Their laughter gone, replaced by fright.

I saw them cower and heard their cries,

As they huddled together, there was no place to hide.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into years,

The cycle of abuse, the constant tears.

But through it all, they stood their ground,

With strength and courage, they refused to be brought down.

They loved each other; that much was true,

And through their love, they saw their way through.

They dreamed of a future where they could be free,

Where love and laughter would replace pain and misery.

I remember the times when they tried to escape,

Only to be brought back, their freedom taken.

But still, they held on to each other and their dreams,

Refusing to let the monster break their beams.

They found solace in each other's embrace,

And the walls of this home became their safe place.

They would hug and cry, and whisper their fears,

And I, the silent witness, would wipe away their tears.

One day, their prayers were answered, the monster was gone,

And in his wake, a life of joy was born.

The woman, she healed, and the children, they laughed,

And the home that once echoes with pain, was filled with love at last.

But the memories linger, the pain still remains,

Etched into my walls, the heartache sustains.

For I am a wall, but I am so much more,

A silent witness to heartache, pain and war.

So if walls could talk, I'd whisper their names,

And the story of their love, that forever remains.

A tale of heartache, pain, and triumph in the end,

Of a family united, their love and bond, so true and pure, a love to commend.

And though they've moved on, their memories stay,

In the crevices of my walls, in the echoes of their say.

For their love and their courage will forever be a part,

Of this home, where the walls still bear the scars of their broken heart.

Years have passed, and new families have come and gone,

But the pain of that family will forever live on.

In the walls of this home, where I stand so tall,

And tell the tale, of a love that stood tall.

But as I stand here, I can't help but wonder,

If this new family will also suffer.

If they too, will fall victim to abuse,

And if their love, will also turn to blues.

I hope not, I pray they find their way,

And that their love, will flourish each day.

That they find happiness, and peace within these walls,

And that their memories, will forever enthrall.

But if fate should be unkind, and their love starts to fray,

I'll be here, to bear witness, and wipe away their pain.

For I am more than just a wall, I am a storyteller too,

Of love, heartache, and triumph, in all that I've been through.

So if walls could talk, I'd speak of love, of pain, of hope,

And remind each new family, that they're not alone.

For in this home, the walls stand tall, a silent witness to it all,

And offer comfort, in the face of heartache, pain, and all.