Yellow house

It’s the smell of coffee that takes me back
the cracks in the porcelain that makes me linger
just to see, if we could have done it differently
whilst I silently remove the dust with my fingers.

I still remember the sounds of childish laughter
floating thrilled across the room
sometimes I wait for that notion to come back
hoping it will get here soon.

It doesn’t shine anymore
it is deserted and motionless
but walking by it in the afternoon sun
I feel tempted to blow it a kiss.

Ghosts of the midday play patrol
I wish I’d survived turning eleven
what then felt like hell on earth
now seems like a piece of heaven.

I have walked this pavement
a million times or more
it has tasted my salty tears
it has seen me battle my wars

and the yellow house that I hold so dear
at times, I swear, I can hear her moan
she needs that childish laughter back
she needs to get back upon her throne.

Yes, this seems to be a case of melancholy
memories are far beyond my control
how happy they may waltz on by
every time they are near, it tears upon my soul.

Not even the happiest face, could mend this heart
a smile could come too close
I can’t comprehend how time flies
in a blink of an eye, you could lose what you love most.

And so, time went by
I’m growing older by the second
I don’t like surprises
and colliding with time was not what I reckoned.