The Wall
Sitting on a Wall
Waiting.
Waiting while fools rush by,
Worn down heels, trodden on
Then thrown away, to be left
Sitting on a Wall.
Wondering
Wondering why I was born to be
So I could see no rhyme, no reason,
For me to be
Sitting on a Wall.
Dreaming;
Dreaming of a life with you
At the centre of a galactic whirlpool
Of infinite life and depth
The stars rush round me and I’m left
Sitting on a Wall
Copyright © Peter Baker | Year Posted 2010
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