Bulwark

Through mullioned windows,

Stained and dirty,

Life undulates its shadows,

On the walls, so pretty!

We all have our walls;

I try to sit up on mine,

To see the world as it calls,

Just like an adamant Humpty, out of line,

Who’d not learn from his falls.

I look for someone to catch the Humpty myself,

Should I fall;

Because even if not often, I can’t help shelf,

My fears of falling hard, and dumb my terrifying bawls.

Whenever I fall, I can’t hold back on my doubts;

Inadequacy and sketchiness have me grabbed;

And feelings of unworthiness, undeservingness begin to sprout;

And I wonder is this tantamount to being stabbed?

I want to feel myself detached from these walls,

But I keep on building them and climbing on the edge;

I build them, not to create containment halls,

I build them as a safe haven, with my very own ledge.

I’d like someone with an empty hamper to come along,

Just to pick off the pretty flowers that grow at my wall’s base;

Eventually sifting all along, to see how strong,

The crevices on my walls trace.

Amazing would it be, if this someone steals a moment,

In one of the numerous scrutinies,

To be my barricade’s opponent,

And anaesthetically inflate my cavities!

Little by little, chiselling away,

Returning each day,

To finally find my wall sway,

Succoured by the winds concomitant with the light’s ray!

If they finally crumble, you’ll find me,

You’ll find many promises,

A promise to never flee,

Compasses that point dimensionless flawlessness,

And trances that are full of glee,

So I urge you, please come, find me!