Bad Teenage Poetry: Walls

While cleaning out some old boxes, I found some interesting stuff from my childhood.  Maybe I should start a new blog: Bad Teenage Poetry. Ok, maybe just a blog section.

Here’s the first entry, dated February 9, 1998.  I would have been fifteen.

For your entertainment.

 
Walls
 
Thunder rumbles in the distance
My walls shudder around me
Lightning flashes
Blinding the sky
The walls quiver as I watch
All my life, I’ve built these walls
Made from stone and working hands
My need for protection
The storm presses against the stones
I feel the pressure building
My walls shudder again
In vain I try to keep them up
But these walls took years to build
And seconds to destroy
I try to block out the impending storm
But winds whip around me
Throwing me like a leaf in the fall breeze
My hands cover my terrified face
As I realize I’ve no protection
The storm can have me now
As walls are never sturdy enough-
Pushing walls, they seem solid
But there is always something stronger.
I stand tall; proud
When the walls hold me up
But now I try to hide from the storm.
Lightning misses me, I crumble more
Rain pelts me, tiny stones from a deafening sky
The storm has come back,
Stronger than walls.
These walls fall again
What good are falling walls?
 
 

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