Deconstruction

A process in discovery.

From behind these walls

made of me

I can finally see

not just who I was

but who I am

and who I will be

At first a pure child

a temper so mild

until I grew as them

From sticks and stones

a blended foe

mixed and matched

and molded

I played along

while deep inside

I fought, resisted

but folded

There comes a day

when every soul

has volcanic ashes

The walls fall down

like dominos

the ego burns

and crashes

See? not so bad

in fact I'm loved,

held and fearless

It feels good

to be me.

It feels good

to be home

happy, fun

and careless.

Reviews

[Nessly]

I love how this poem flows from line to line so seamlessly. You depict the narrator growing up so well. Really great job.

[Reed Marcotte]

Thanks a bunch, Nessly. Ya know I saw the thread on your poem, Smells of September. I thought you handled yourself quite well. Way to rise above. :)

[Nessly]

Thanks. :)