These Four Walls
my four walls are invisible, they cannot be seen
but they are thick, wide and deep after all these years
each board, each nail, a sorrow, a tear, a grief
I hide myself within these self-made high walls
secluded, concealed, my secret refuge from the world
I am safe within my box, I cannot be hurt in my fortress . . .
my box, my fortress has no ceiling and I can see the azure sky
the falling rain washes over me, the wind speaks to me, softly
snow, I gather like a pure white blanket
and my mind takes me to wonderful places, far off lands
and my fantasies are breathless and beautiful
and I write poetry, pages and pages, fluttering away
oh my box is a special place where tranquility dwells . . .
but sometimes, oh dark the journey, I visit death
down winding roads and I am a beautiful girl floating wispy
my long raven hair flowing like a cloud around me
and I stand before tombs, tombs and tombs
and those beneath the cold earth come to me
weeping we kiss until the light of dawn takes me away
back to my four walls, my box, my fortress with no ceiling . . .
and when I must venture into the real world, I wear a mask
a mask of happiness, I can never let anyone see
the pain within, it would shatter their hearts forever
oh my soul and heart are broken for all infinity, this is written
there has been too much death, too much sorrow, just too much
you have no idea, dear reader, you can even fathom it . . .
_______________________
February 19, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/these four walls
Copyright Protected, ID 16-759-533-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Four Walls
Sponsor, C.T.
Second Place
___________________________________
Submitted to the contest, Second Place Contest
sponsor, Laura Loo
Seventh Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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