Empty tables, empty chairs.

Bottles left uncorked, empty wine glasses.

Barren porcelain vases with no flowers. Delicate china gathering dust.

Poems never written, words wasted. Sheet music yellowing and torn.

Letters to no one, crumpled, fading. A broken guitar, rusted strings.

Candles left unlit. Pretty dresses, tailored suits, musty and moth-eaten.

Stark reminders of dinners missed, of conversations never had. Signs of memories never made. Of promises never whispered, of hands never held. Marks of broken hearts, of scars unhealed, of futures forsaken. Telling stories of hopes and dreams, left to rot.

Of wasted potential.

Empty tables, empty chairs.