Furnished

In the corners of my mind, a room awaits,

Furnished with echoes of forgotten days.

Each piece a memory, polished and worn,

Whispering tales of loves lost and reborn.

The velvet chair where laughter once resounded,

Now holds the weight of silence, unbounded.

A clock on the wall ticks a steady beat,

Measuring time in echoes, bittersweet.

The lamp casts shadows on worn wooden floors,

Illuminating secrets locked in drawers.

Pictures on the walls, faded and frayed,

Tell stories of journeys, choices made.

In this room of memories, I wander alone,

Tracing the contours of a life fully grown.