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The Walls



Looking around I see these walls,
These dull brown walls,
These four sharp walls,
These lonely but united walls.

So constricting yet so welcoming
They will hold you tight,
As long as you’re alright,
They will keep you warm,
Helping you mourn.

The holes in the wall let me see,
That very tree.
It reminds me.

It reminds me of those days,
Where nothing went my way,
Where I skipped through the grass
And wasn’t looking through stained glass.

It reminds me of the times I didn’t spend alone,
Before any of this was known.
Before the drama and the trauma,
Before the pain and the rain.

Before the deaths and the threats.
Making me wonder if I was ever alone,
Away from home.

Oh, what a shame it would be!
To leave these four walls and flee.

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