The Wall

He takes the roll
and violates the wall
with a sick
peach color
rolling on and on
relentless
covering more
of the pristine wall
sitting there helpless
under his assault.
He keeps at it
with ferocious intensity
covers the wall
in a peach gown.
The distinct wall
no longer naked
presents
an acceptable facade
like us all.

by alex haywood

Other poems of HAYWOOD (65)

Comments (1)

Good poem, intense and what too many of us do, instead of reading the writing on it. Smiling at you, Tai