i've leaned on the strength of this wall for so long,
believing always,
that i must be as strong.
but one day,
a man comes with a hammer.
he begins to tap on the bricks,
secretly first,
so quiet, nobody hears.
but he starts from the bottom,
for a while nobody notices it's crumbling.
the next time i try to lean on this once strong wall,
it crumbles under my weight,
into a pile of bricks on the ground.
he smashed down that **** wall,
and walked all over it with his big, black boots.
some days, he builds it back up.
he starts to piece it all back together.
just to smash it back down,
again and again,
as if this is all a game.
we watch that wall crumble,
picking up the bricks,
cradling them in our small arms,
trying to patch it up.
but he stands over the sad disaster,
rolls his eyes,
and tells us to get back to work,
fixing the wall again.
he needs to fix that wall.
we may be strong,
but the bricks are too heavy
for us to carry ourselves.