Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
In old age we become
museums of ourselves,
echoing halls and rooms
filled with the clutter
of long ago, display cases
of what once was,
a record of the ages,
the imprints of our memories.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 06.11.22
Prompt: Museum.
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