Walls hold all the memories
Our minds dare not to dwell on.
The bleakest of our blights
Which our spirits quick abandon.
Between the wood and plaster
There lies a million hurtful truths.
Of men who’re broken, women bruised,
And the cause of ended youths.
If home is where the heart is what
Do we call these hollow halls
Where ghosts and demons feed from
Poisoned memories between the walls?