Elise Skidmore

This poem is a bit different from what you might expect from me. It came to me today, from where, I have no idea. But I think I rather like it and wanted to share it with you.

The Room
 
 Things happened in this room.
 Now nothing does.
 In this room voices were heard.
 Now there is silence.
 Who lived here
 when the walls breathed life?
 I'm sure it wasn't me.
 Was it you?
 I hear footsteps in the hall.
 Someone is walking away.
 
 
 ~Elise Skidmore ©2019