The back attic room
Was silent and still.
Darkened by the blackened
Walls and floor.

That back attic room was
Where the ghosts survived.
In the darkened, blackened room,
They frolicked and thrived.

The back attic room
With its short, incomplete door
Was used most by my cats
To escape; to explore.

The back attic room
With the cats and the ghosts
Remained ever silent
Even as the moon rose.

I built a fort in there once,
With my flashlight and books
And read to the ghosts
In the darkened, blackened nooks.

I found peace in that space
Among the relics left alone
Till one day I no longer needed
That darkened, blackened room

The front attic room
Was finished and furnished.
We made it pink and pretty
And entirely girlish.

In the front attic room
I lived and loved and dreamed.
And the back attic room
Was left silent and still.

Well, except for my cats,
Who kept time with the ghosts.

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