And brick by brick I build this wall,
Brick by brick it grows.
Rising higher, reaching up..
Till I reach it no more.
There is no wind here,
There is no light,
Just leftover dust from days passed by.
I sit inside in silence and wait,
Wait till the day comes,
When brick by brick this wall comes down,
Brick by brick I am found.
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5 comments:
good stuff :)
Thank you :)
The irony of life is - one cannot find self completely. Ever.
That's one way of looking at it, but I'd say this one's more about letting go than "finding" yourself.
I really like this poem...
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