Musings...

Notabilia

Hushed, muted, neglected,
as a whisper of voices
glide down its corridor
and the broken-down stairwell.

Withered, stained, rusty,
visible to the naked eye,
except for the pain it contains,
the memories of forgotten happiness.

Unseen, immovable, sturdy,
hidden from the world outside,
surrounded by trees,
once a magnificent sight.

Suffering, creaking, falling apart,
the shapely exquisiteness it once was,
sighing along with the wind,
letting dust motes swirl in the air.

Discouraged, weakened, saddened,
it waits in patient gloom,
until the joy of children
runs through its door again.