There was a room It was cold and removed At the end of a hall Where pictures hung true. And never 'nough light To make out a face Of children dressed up By brides in white lace. Dusty and old Turned the house with its age Like a book read too much Cracked spine shedding page. I still walk by quite often Call it heartache, or need I try remembering you, but... Without chipped paint, or weeds. Another Autumn's coming With its frost and clear skies Bringing winter upon me Like the day that you died.