9 Oct 2016
The Wall
and then it begins to crumble
the wall that you had built
giving it your years of tireless labour
dreaming of it by night
laying brick by brick, by day
and when the wall was complete
you sat there crying
running your numb fingers along its finish
for, it was your dying hour
home became a mere metaphor
when the boys grew up into adults
and the wall aged
soaked in rain, it gathered moss
they will never know
how glad you will in your grave be
if they fain touch the wall
such is the life after death
but now, the wall is crumbling
because someone somewhere
pulled a brick and crushed it into sand
such is the tale of neglect
should the wall be put up again?
but what crumbles once crumbles again
and again. and again.
and again. and again.
till you forget how many again times
it has crumbled;
till it gets tired of crumbling
or dies. again.
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