She never went upstairs to see
The mess we were making,
The things we brought up there
Or what we did.
Sometimes she would yell
From the bottom of the stairs,
“Don’t make me come up there.”
She never did.
We wandered where we would,
Entertained unsavory characters,
Entertained a good many things
Unwary of consequences.
Things often went astray leading to tears.
We discovered many things
Best left undiscovered.
Danger has its appeal.
But, like opening Pandora’s Box,
It was too late to put them back,
We often played on the dark side of our rooms.
Some of us managed to find our way
Back downstairs.
No one survived unscathed.
Memories trail behind us like chains,
Haunt us like ghosts.
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