Laura describes a private struggle to keep her pain out of sight. She imagines herself as a building whose walls are crumbling from within, with tiny "merry men" living inside her who rush to patch the damage. The name suggests a playful, almost cheerful band of helpers, which makes the situation feel both childlike and sad.
Most days the repairs work. Sometimes they come too late, and the hurt breaks through, "shrieking and tearing" at her surface so that others can see it. The images here are violent and raw, and people around her don't know how to react. Then the merry men rebuild, using "self-preservation" and "protection" as their materials. The wall closes up, but the cost is clear in the last lines: no one sees who she really is or how she feels. The mood is tense and lonely, and the protection that saves her also keeps her shut away.