Paintballs and Empty Rooms

The smell hits me like a wall

hard in my mind

the sweet odour of paint

shot from a gun

I’m back to all those years ago

when you were by my side

and life was a song

melody playing in the air

like a dying love song.

Walking through empty rooms

watching the laughs, the smiles,

come to life before my eyes

the smalls things we took for granted

every one is held with these walls

faded in the fire of my heart

but clear as crystal in my mind.

The reason I ran,

the reason I cried,

the reason I died.

Now I’m back it’s all still here

drowning me in tears.

Categories: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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One thought on “Paintballs and Empty Rooms

  1. I really enjoy this poem.

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