March 14, 2009
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I place my hand upon the wall.
Wood, I think first.
Then, stone.
How am I to know?

I press my ear to the wall.
Is that music I hear?
Now it sounds more like
Angry shouts.
Or, perhaps,
The fury of war.
How am I to know?

Afraid, I keep my eyes closed.
I cannot force myself to learn
What it is that makes up
This wall
Between us.
What if it's something we can't break through?
How am I to know?

I open my eyes and see the wall.
I gently touch my fingertips to the wall.
Still cold.
Still unmoving.
Maybe the glass makes it worse.
Maybe it's harder when I have to see you.
I think it is.
But how am I to know?

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

sarahzebra said...
Nov. 27, 2009 at 7:31 pm
Great job !<br /> No way You are good
M said...
Mar. 26, 2009 at 12:16 am
Nice poetry. Good work on getting published, 007.
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