Coming Home.

My wall begins to crumble
Yet I fight to keep it there
Locked away from prying eyes
And those who want to stare

It took an age to put it up
And keep me safe within
This boundry of emotion
Now seems a whisper thin

The hurt the pain, so far away
Now hovers like a cloud
To swirl around my fortress
Tearing layers from my shroud

My lake of tears, now so much dust
Lays dormant at my feet
To bare my soul, for all to see
Acceptance to my fate.

by Graham Jones

Comments (2)

We all build walls to protect us from being hurt. It's when they become too high to see over that our tomb is complete. Excellent read - wonderful, meaningful poem. Linda
very deep and reflective piece of writing. nice imagery. i like the phrase 'a whisper thin', its uncommon and unique. excellent work.