* * *

If the wall could speak, I'm sure he'd understand. For he lives his life as I, Dropping directly onto the land. He hears the constant murmers, But has no will to see, For who would ever listen, to that white wall and me? If the wall could speak, we'd be the best of friends, Comprehension, the tightest of bonds, Fastens me tightly to him. Or maybe it's the ropes they've made, that keep me from the escape or crawl, For who would ever care for, me or that wall? But, my secret is, and keep it locked, for this is of grave urgency, Is that my wall can truely talk, but softly and only to me. The ropes they've made tight to my skin, The imprints on the wall's door, its all, Will lock them all up, as silently as sin, Unlike I, who shall be free, along with the wall.

OasisInTheDesert
SourceLicence:Public domain (author dedication)

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