I’m walking through the halls Trapped in by suffocating walls I’m walking through the doors Over the decaying floors Who has walked through them? And where were they walking from? A broken desk Or a secluded bathroom stall? Memories and laughter or Tears and sobs evermore? Have these hallways heard confessions? Or witnessed just depression? Have they made memories of laughter ? Have these windows shown truth of all of the lies? Or only a glimpse of an aggravated sunrise? Are the walls shrines of the past? Holders of all questions asked? If the curtains wave in the gentle autumn breeze Is there still an ill wanted disease? The dilapidated ceiling watched over inhabitants Still built perfectly built but falling apart And visitors that were seen as contaminants The unwanted one The one no one would notice if they were gone The same one that screamed for help here For anyone to be near Or the one who was popular A class A top gossiper The one with a sharp tongue But no one knows that it’s wrong The hallways whisper the secrets Of their strongest weakness The halls tell the stories they may Of friends on their departing highway And the friends who are just meeting Smiles, laughter and a warm greeting I’m walking through the halls Trapped in by suffocating walls I’m walking through the doors Over the decaying floors Waiting for a voice to hear For anyone to show they're near Waiting here forever I won't leave this place, never
I wrote this poem after someone in our school committed suicide. I didn't know him too well, but it was still upsetting and shocking. As I was walking down the halls, I realized all these different things: he walked through that door, that was his locker, he laughed in this hallway, he ate at one of these lunch tables. I'm hoping that this poem describes all of this with just words.
I have traveled to the edge of the earth, riding along the shoulders of darkness, stumbling in hallways, waking up on kitchen tables, sick for days and grasping for air, each breath I took was a moment climbing closer to death and there were darker times in my life where I breathed heavily *****, tunes and slumber were once used for casualties and pleasantries but now it’s a reliability to escape from a life that I created for myself. sleeping in gutters, my hair drenched in sewer water, whiskey burning my throat and veins and the horrid homeless man stands over me smiling, his rows of teeth look like city skylines jagged and gritty and full of smog in front of some condemned building where the devil leans again a lamppost, taking the slowest pull off his brown paper bag and playing the saddest harmonica on the darkest, gloomiest night at the corner of Everything Avenue and Nothing Boulevard
We walk through this hallway like a feather from some other continent, looking into the eyes of people we knew but never met, people we met but never knew. We walk through this corridor with our minds floating into a space in time no one else could find, floating alongside the stars into the vast nothingness of the universe. We walk through time, finding gazes of people only to find them looking at something else. We spend this walk in a classroom looking into the eyes of people we may or may not have shared moments with. Wanting to find what makes them close their eyes in fear, wanting to see whatever it is that makes them. We spend this walk in a dining table face to face with people weve known our whole lives. And when we catch a gaze all we can see is a stranger and we try, so hard to unlock whatever it is that's locked. We spend this lifetime trying to find someone who have the same chemicals running through our veins.
Our flesh we'll never get tired of this neverending walk. Our eyes we'll never get tired of this sightseeing, we'll never get tired of looking more than what the eyes can see. We'll walk wherever part of the world it is in hopes of finding someone who see the world as we do. We continue to walk through this because no one else does, no one else takes the time to understand something so distorted. We walk through this lifetime for everyone else who begs to be understood.
I havent been on here for so long, feels so good to be back :) This is for all the people who look close enough, pay attention more and for people who wants to be looked at. Sometimes we feel as though we'll be alone foreve, like no one we'll ever look close enough to see more than just what the eyes can see.
As the pencil dreamily hits the paper, The student dreams of freedom, Drawing world of fantasy, Times faded away, An escape from reality, The ticking of the clock, And the pain of boredom, Dulled by the point of the pencil, Pouring graphite onto the paper.
You ever walk from place to place with your earbuds in and music turned up? I do that a lot. I’m a hallway walker myself, used to run everywhere at first but not anymore.
So since you’re a hallway walker, where are you going? You got somewhere to be? I find myself walking halls a lot. Sometimes it’s for absolutely no reason. And sometimes we all just need to walk out our problems or feelings.
You get used to seeing the same walls and doors along the way. Sometime that halls are empty and hollow, and sometimes you’re trying to walk through a crowd...
Have you ever wondered about where other people are going? Maybe they’re walking the same way you are, or maybe they’re walking to nowhere. Either way, we’ve all got somewhere we have to go. I hope you make it there safely.
And hey, don’t forget where you’re going, but don’t forget where you came from either. The journey is just as important as the destination. Thanks for finding my letter. Now keep walking, I mean, don’t you have somewhere to be?
Walking through life, or the hallways of life I guess.