Walls

These walls are frightening;
these brick and mortar beasts.
They mock me, they scorn me
on my misery they feast.

I watch them as they're edified
built by masons of pain.
But walls aren't meant for you and me,
but for the damned and the insane.

So I take my picks and hammers,
and I go about my work.
My duty is to tear walls down,
and my duties don't get shirked.

My friend, you cannot hide from me,
I care too much for you.
So when you lock yourself away,
I'll come for you; it's true.

Author's Note

For my friend. She knows who she is.

Reviews

[Koibito "Nickie" Kitsuy..]

This is like a letter to my friend. All the words I wish I could say to him, you have written down into a lovely poem. Well done.

[Will]

You're more than welcome to share it with him.

[Rita L. Sev]

Great analogy here, and very well crafted. I especially like this stanza:

So I take my picks and hammers,
and I go about my work.
My duty is to tear walls down,
and my duties don't get shirked.

Very well done, Will!

[Will]

Thank you, Rita. I'm glad you liked the analogy.

[Baby Ricochet]

Good metaphor. Great job Will

[Will]

Thank you, Ricochet. I'm back in my own groove now