Wandering through the corridors of my mind,
I brush against the cobwebs of memories left behind.
Each door opens to a room filled with echoes of laughter,
The murmurs of dreams that I once chased after.
The light in these halls flickers, dim then bright,
Illuminating moments locked in perpetual night.
Here lies the first tear that ever kissed my cheek,
Beside the whispered promises we were too young to keep.
In a corner lies a box of what could have been,
Faded photographs and letters, edges worn thin.
Yet, in this museum of the past, I find,
The strength to look back, then forward, leaving shadows behind.