These Walls

If these walls could talk, I wonder what what would they say Would they thank me for being painted Or will they ask me, to wash the paint away. Would they tell me of the pictures That once hung upon them their Pictures that once adorn those walls Or I wonder would they even care. Would they speak upon the stories That was heard within these walls That no one else even knows about, That is if the stories these walls could recall. Was there children laughter all about Or any secrets heard and being told I wonder what have they listened to And I wonder if anyone will ever know. These walls inside this house That for years have stood alone With the stories that was told and heard While this house had became a home. The Sadness that they might had seen And the worries and sorrow that they felt Maybe they don't want to remember it at all And maybe they too keep it bottled upon their self. Were they painted to cover up secrets Was they battered as to protect someone's lies Or were they wallpapered to cover up the truth And did they hear the whispers and the cries. These walls they are still standing Through the years of the days and nights While listening and knowing all done and said In the darkness and also in the light. I look at these walls just one last time As I head home from my walk, How I wish I knew what they heard and know, But that is, if these walls could only talk. Randy L. McClave