Smoke Bombs & Paint

Roam the halls,
of my own safe haven
the distinct smells
of smoke bombs and paint
the distant sounds
of guitars and doors

Hear the footfalls
coming from the stairs
the sounds of lockers slamming shut
and vaguely in the distance
something blowing up
a memory i hope does not become distant

Roaming different halls
hearing different doors
a sense of loss
and little gained
it just doesnt feel
quite the same
What happened to those five years we would share 'till the end?