Walls Poem by John Parsons

Eyes stare down the hall
Without movement or signs of a soul
Within them. They just stop
Living; they're like The Scream

Painted In Hazel Rings
They say 'What is the point
of College, love, fame or wealth?
I'll never have any of them. They are
More distant than Van Gogh's stars.

White walls stand and echo
the Silent Earthquake within
With not a roar, but a hush.
The walls are a blank canvas
No texture or colour, just space
For the Future to splatter itself on.