Walking through the corridor
passing the doors of past memories
Remembering the music that played
memories baked into them
Some pretty, some beautiful
Some awful.
The line between them blurry,
at best
Non-existent,
at worst
The heavy cloud of time
carried by the sound of a song
Able to sometimes fill the room
left by the lack of emotion
Pushing up the tears,
the Anger,
the Love
Felt, when being carried by
the sound of Time