I wrote this poem with the message of my life. If you understand it, I respect you.




The Wall

For every cut, or for every bruise,


I lay down a brick.

For every kick, or for every punch, I lay another.

For every insult, or for every backstab,

Is an additional brick.

A wall is being built.

A wall made up of my own blood.

A wall that is keeping all the hurtful matters out,

And the acceptable ones in.



But I've become too carried away with this wall.

I'm filling in the wounds that aren't worth filling.

I literally hunt for reasons to add bricks.

My wall is now rather large.

I realize that it is isolating me from the world.

I'm being torn apart from the people I love and care for.



I've now become independent.

Individually parted from everything.

I hate it.

I'm alone; mournful; and suffering.

This wall was nothing but a deception; a fake; a lie.

It didn't accomplish what I thought it could.



I wish that brick by brick,

I can tear down this wall.

I wish there would be no more cutting; no more crying.

I wish I was no longer trapped by this wall.

I want to be free and proud of who I am.

I don't want to hide from this world anymore.

We can't all get what we want,

This wall is trapping me inside for eternity.

Suffering; Crying;


Dying...