Lost little girlie

the sound of old voices and music in your soul,old sound,walks and faces and smiles and moves,old window is a wind of your childhood,were memories are swimming like heavy stones in the bottom of the ocean,and eyes are talking like they had drink all of the sad feelings,like they had become tired,get empty,and emotions are dancing inside them,and sometimes your old breathe becomes such a strange,cold note,from you can not run,and the shadows,oh shadows of cold people and dark places,follows,follows and you must know,your footsteps to know yourself,and dont loose,dont loose in them.. breathe the sound of old voices which will never return..and old houses with sounds of the whispering wind.