Walls Poem by dymon sidebottom

My walls are thick.
They make up who I am.
Made of hate, fire, loss, pain, and cement.
They tear hem down, not all, but some.
But I rebuild them.
The more they destroy, the more I build.
They don't understand.
I feel anger all the time.
I always put up walls so I'm careful not to hurt anyone.
It neevr helps, in the end I destroy people.
Living, vreathing people.
They have pain from me.
Why do I hurt these strangers.