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Poem

The Walls… 
The Walls… 
The Walls…
How they look upon me. 
Their eyes,
Once so bright and filled with light,
Are now dark with dead of night.
I can hear them
Creaking,
Speaking to me as they sit
Staring insufferably.
Listening,
Always listening to my every breath — 
Filling me with thoughts of…
The Walls… 
The WALLS… 
THE WALLS…
How their dark stare mocks me,
But truths belie.
For as they sit, 
Stoic and unyielding, 
I too look on, a sly smile smiling back at them.
Tick… tock… 
Tick… tock…
Finally, my ally has arrived!
Time, my friend, you are, as always, never late; 
Nor are you a moment too soon, for now we fight–
THE WALLS… 
THE WALLS… 
THE WALLS…
No longer will they close in on me,
For this time it is not me but We,
And together we can hold back
Their long dark stare.
So now, Walls, you shall yield to me,
No longer closing in
But instead holding back the gloom of night. 
And as time turns my nows into thens,
And the walls’ eyes glow grows from red to white,
This is when Time shares his gift with me–
A brand new day with hope in sight 
One where the world’s colored with delight 
Where walls don't look in but do look bright. 
A day where I can say unto you:
Walls, walls are all you are,
And I
See
Through You.


-- by ThoughtsFromB4

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