Photo by Andrei Panfiloiu on Unsplash

Wilted flower petals, many lie strewn

Forlorn, unadorned, a dimly lit room.

Once bedazzled, the walls now lie bare,

A crack in the mirror, returning your empty stare.

Long gone, moved on, the years mixed in a blur,

The faded photographs — sole proof of the youth you were.

Bones creaking, hair now streaked with grey,

If your past could talk, what would it say?