Each Brick
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I know all about disapproval and condemnation,
apathy and consternation are the bricks in my wall;
each brick takes me further into isolation,
there are vines that my tears grew and under them for shelter I crawl.
And in safety my predilection and reverence I explore,
encompassed and bound with my words that pour;
into surreal unearthliness- I drift, soar and f a l l . . . fall.
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October 31, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/Each Brick Is My Forevermore
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1081-690-31
All Rights Reserved, 2018, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, 7 Lines, 7 Words, Rhyme
sponsor Lu Loo, Judged 11/2018
Second Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2018
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