A Sound That Haunts

The documentary played, stark and unkind,

the camera zoomed in, capturing minds.

Then came the sound, a zipper that clung,

like a ghost in the room, uninvited, unsung.

Each sharp snap echoed, a brittle refrain,

a reminder of life’s fragile, haunting chain.

We carry our secrets in unzipped bags,

a silence that lingers, that time often drags.

In shadows I wander, pondering weight,

as the flickering screen brings forth fate.

That zipper’s cold whisper, still haunting my night,

we all have our burdens, concealed from the light.