Something there is that doesnt love a wall

That wants it down

'Good fences make good neighbors'

Theyre not my Frosted words to recite

 

But when I write

The words bypass my judgement

They just appear on the screen

Or on the lined paper

Or the napkin

Or the sidewalk in blotchy chalk

 

Maybe the wall

Is what I saw

And what I chose to try and break down

 

The wall blocks the feelings

But the words pass through, somehow

The concrete no longer solid and rigid

But porous and cracking

The words fill in where the wall is lacking

 

Maybe my bricks dont have to be heavy

Nor do my words have to be chilling

I choose to allow the words to break the floe

And that is the road that I choose to go