Walls

Mansions we have built in our lives; Manors created by our minds; Our imaginations placed stone after stone and set the walls rising. Bricks of different weights and sizes, Blocks of different colors networked in different designs; A color maze, we can hardly figure out which color was placed first. We look at the base; our Infancy- this is truly us. Not the walls whose formative years have cemented the ground. We cannot easily break down the walls and return to our foundation. It is even difficult to crack through the tiles of insincerity That portray our lives. On each side we are faced with fear, pain, and unbelief. We are uncertain. We do not speak loud because the wind might carry our words over And spill our secrets to the outside world; To those with eager minds wishing to come in And see our very bedrock that we have kept under for years. Our only retreat is our dying day, Because these walls have stretched across the globe With stones placed on stones that we watched rising.