In each person is a special hallway;
A hallway where one can go when they’re in need.
It is called the Hallway of Memory.

In its twisted hallways and paths
Are doors that hold something unique.
It’s part of the past’s antiques

You walk on the path set before you
Walking past doors whose rooms hold scenes you’ve seen
Only you know what each of them mean.

Some rooms are filled with happiness,
While others of grief.
Some are long and some are brief.

Some are of scenes that you cherish the most,
And others hold something with pain,
Like death or some other kind of bane.

You walk past these doors,
Past things you’ve seen or done,
And stop at one that holds none.

This door is meant for your new memories.
It’s just waiting here, ready for you
To place in it a scene that’s new.