Once again

The wall holds more than I,

holds more secrets than the fly sticking to its concrete skin,

knows more than the weak imitations that I create within,

as well as man-made emotion,

it’s lovely when we tear down,

too much and we’ll be extinct,

too much and all there is:

Instinct,

to fight,

to thrive

to love,

to passionately envelope and be mailed away,

the secret of the wall…

All it does is be,

and that we have in common,

however will we hold up?

How to balance without walls,

brick by brick,

we all fall down…

To bring up.

 

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