The Fifth Wall Poem by Leslie Alexis

The room where I stand has five walls.
There is no ceiling and there is no floor
So in death I can rise or I can fall,
But in life’s journey I do not know.

The east and west are for me,
The north and south I can claim.
I can walk every road – every sea,
If the fifth had not made me lame.

Its surface filled with knives and nails
That in journeying the body bleeds,
My movement leads to no avail.
I sit and worry about my needs.

If this wall would move but a while
I just might do an immense feat,
But it stands with a gloomy smile
and tells how glad it is to meet.

If it were not a wall I would punch
It in the face; but I’m the one who would feel
Pain, as my finger in unison scrunch.
I hate it because of my ordeal.

(Don’t be surprised if one day it burns,
For I’m fueled and only need a flame,
just turn your head, these are not your concerns,
It has done to many the same…)

But if I do this I become the fifth wall,
I would not live if this were my way
So I hope it changes before it falls,
With all… such would still be a sad day.

Copyright © 2010 Leslie Alexis