Just Another Brick In The Wall

a cold red brick wall stares back across from my kitchen's view don't know why it's there, next door neighbor removed the window maybe they're hermits, who cares, rarely see the old man or his wife they come out now and again go shopping or drive somewhere whatever it is they do, occasionally sit on the front porch he tends to his flower garden keeps digging up the lawn replanting new bulbs every spring, very odd people, don't smile or say hello, not unless you do first have visitors who come and go grandchildren, too, I think, who like to play outside with other neighborhood kids; but could it be I'm the strange one? I don't go out much, either, unless I absolutely have to I don't have a garden, have exotic weeds in my backyard the sun shines brightly there; I am like that cold brick wall nobody can fully penetrate or appreciate, understand what holds me together, my rock solid heart; this wall that encloses me nobody knows, or cares, anyway what's behind the wall, but my cement is drying up a few bricks may be missing, but I still hold up fairly well despite all the wear and tear over the many hard years; but it's the small, fine stress cracks these tiny ones that nobody sees, they are the kind that weakens me the foundation of who I am, one day the bricks will come tumbling down, and brick by brick I'll reveal myself exposing the inner layers and structure and I will implode, by society's hands, tearing down my wall to make room for a new, better one, then someone else can stare back at it and wonder what it's here for, and I'll be wondering the same thing. (c) 9/00 SmS**Inspired by Pink Floyd's "The Wall". And my neighbor's red brick wall. Written February 1st, 2002 © on Feb 01 2002 02:29 PM PST, Sheryl Marcia Schwartz   18 • 10 • 9