Poetry #1 - Talking to the Wall

Dusty walls in the moonlit room,

I found comfort in your gloom.

We have something in common, I guess --

Your chipped paint, my life's mess.

No doubt we share the same coldness,

And I assume you were tested through time,

But you stood resilient, fearless --

Despite the thick, heavy layers of grime.

I want to be just like you --

A survivor, a protector, a friend to lean on,

A keeper of secrets, in all shades of blue

You have all the strength that I would need to carry on.

But I'm just a poor soul,

Wandering around, escaping the doom.

Wondering if I could ever play the role

Of a dusty wall in a moonlit room.

~o~

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