I am a broken wall. Not seen by my peers who I really am, I crumble. I bring down the only thing I live for. I'm breathless, but only for a moment as I watch the happiness slip through my hands. I cry only as if I was broken before. The rage from the disappointment worries me. How will I build myself back up? I only know of what I have seen. I am broken; as I feel the safety I have built around me, fall. The actuality of it all overwhelms me. I know it’s not the end, but when will it be? How many walls do I have to build before one can withstand the sorrow I feel inside? I sit and think for awhile, not only about the unfortunateness in my life, but also about the work put into it. Was it all that bad? Was what I did worth the agony I felt? I could only imagine. I sit here alone, baffled. I am not what they perceive me to be. I am a broken wall.