The Fifth Wall

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