Whispers of Yesterday (duplicated)

In the attic where the whispers play, I find the ghosts of yesterday.

Dusty records, worn-out shoes, fragments of the paths we choose. Beneath yellowing skies,

I hear the laughter, soft goodbyes. Time spins in its fragile dance,

caught within a fleeting glance. Polaroids that start to fade, shadows of the

lives we made. Treehouse dreams and burned-out maps, memories layered like thrift store scraps.

We chase the stars 'neath midnight glow, wishing on the worlds we

know. But now the dawn steals all our fights, echoes linger lost

in lights. Hold me close, don't let it slip, these moments etched