The child's laughter spills over the wall
like sunlight breaking through a cracked window
it dances in the air, a melody
that echoes through the empty rooms
where your voice once lingered

The fan creaks, a metronome for silence
in this house where time forgot to move
each turn a reminder of promises
made in whispers, now scattered like leaves
across the floor of memory

I speak to the shadows of your absence
finding truth in the spaces between
each word unsaid, each breath unshared
the child laughs again, a jolt
stirring the dust of forgotten dreams

The air thick with echoes of what was
and what might never be again
I listen to the laughter, knowing
that not all promises are meant
to be kept, and that's alright