There in the tattered weathered halls,
in between those fallen desolate walls,
right there beside the peeling paint
lies somewhere inside
this dreary place
what it was once
but now only holds
what was.
Leaving only just enough
to remember life lived through,
Forgotten corners,
empty halls,
Just enough
to feel the desolate pull
of what it once was,
Fallen floors and weeping walls,
Empty echoes of memory
on the tips of whispers
remembering
that it was once
but now just was.
-Armando Torres
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