The Wall (Repost)

Written by: Sandra Hudson

I am a wall
Not the brick kind
The wall that separates
Babies from adults
Dogs from children
Dens from kitchens
Hate from love

An inner wall
Neat, my plaster
Smooth my paint
Hollow my insides
Held together by nails
And sometimes pictures
Pictures that show families
The good times, I suppose

I represent you
Run your hands
Down my appearance
You’ll find flaws
Like bumps or dips
All from life’s little oops 
Yet fixable
Everything is fixable right?

I hear it all
The laughter, the parties
The pain of loss, the screaming
The crying, the dying, the wailing
I’m there, to lean on, to grieve on
Strong and dependable


Bodies are slammed against me
Fists are put through me
Gunshot projectiles permeate my outer shell
Objects explode on me, liquor bottles, and beer bottles
People, who don’t care, write profanity on me
Beat holes in me and expose my insides, set me on fire
Leaving me open, vulnerable, charred for life
Eventually, I am no longer a wall

But a fly that used to visit