One by one the bricks were laid,
And with each brick
A wall was made.
Strong and thick the wall stood
It was a defender from evil,
But it kept out the good.
When people passed by
And saw the wall,
They had no idea why it was built at all.
The bricks were bare and plain.
It was cold to the touch,
Like a faceless name.
They never saw the beauty inside;
The wall was built
As a way to hide.
Behind those stone bricks
The most rare rose grew
But no one ever knew.
The rose was wrapped in a deep beauty
That was meant to be seen-
With ruby petals and leaves of deep green.
To the rose every person
Was the same-
They were cruel; masters of pain.
They would rip out her leaves
And trample her petals in the dirt,
They would bring her unimaginable hurt.
But hidden from the warmth of human touch
Trying to protect herself
The rose had lost so much.
Hidden behind her self made wall,
The rose didn’t think
She was lovely at all.
Her petals would fade as time passed,
The prison she was in, would be her mold’s cast.
The same form as the walls she’d hold,
As if she was made of stones, thick and cold.
Break down the wall-
Set her free-
But then we discover
That she holds the lock and key.
I am someone who builds protective walls; I’ve been hurt and with each hurt a brick was laid….but I found myself trapped and unhappy. We have to learn to trust and let people in . Yeah, getting hurt is a possibly but so many happy and wonderful moments will pass us by if we don’t risk and open up.