The Wall Poem by Wakefield Mahon

Picture
It lies about me every way.
It has grown in mass from my birthing day.
This mighty wall was once a brick.
Not six inches long an inch or two thick.
Then every time I drew inside my mind,
The great wall, around me, slowly would wind.
I stayed inside here all alone,
Secretly crying, having no home.

One wall became a castle
Around it, flowed a moat
Within the walls a self-made king
Was often prone to gloat
Yet, the castle had no windows.
No light could enter in.
Soon, he grew tired of playing,
Knowing he could not win.
It lay about in every way
It grew in mass since the very first day

When the king determined to find a queen,
He cried to find an elusive dream
The fortress he built to keep himself safe
Had made him blind and broken his faith
An angel passed by with sweet perfume
It seeped through the cracks and entered the room
The great king cried out, 'Won't you help me? '
Alas, the angel could not hear his plea
The darkness grew stronger as he cried
Then, as the walls crumbled, the mighty king died.

It lies about in every way
It is growing stronger every day
Once, the mighty wall was but a brick
Now, it has grown two hundred feet thick
Now and again, I draw inside my mind
While the wall, around me, slowly does wind
I stay inside there all alone,
Secretly crying, having no home.