Where I live alone and never feel lonely
where I wake up with Jimmy Page pointing his guitar at me
have breakfast with  black and white Floyd watching over me with musical eyes
where a sketched Calvin looks into infinity and inspires me to find meaning
the lexicalized walls remind me of the love I once had
written with the feelings of love I imagine ever having again
that burnt paper hanging under the nails with Frost engraved
reminding me every night of the miles that await my footsteps before I sleep
the shadows of the pink and blue hangings intimately romancing
where the folding walls trap the secret lunacy from times
when a laughing smoke and imagination once fought for existence, and again
and again
I seize from them the mere immortal existence
of the silent memories these walls holler at me
when gone I will be, unveil them with the wind
and the ashes will reach wherever I am