The Wall

autumn

The wall is cracking, the pain.
How long before it crumbles down?
Inside the wall all is mush.
Through the cracks pain oozes out.

Each day a new patch on the wall.
And again the wall cracks.
The demolisher at work with his chisel.
Another patch needed to stop pain.

Minutes turn into hours and into days.
How much longer will he use his chisel?
Weakness will catch up one day.
And the wall will come crumbling down.

Through the crack a faceless form.
The mallet raised to strike the chisel.
The demolisher has not finished.
Another patch, not today it won’t crumble.

By C.E. Pereira
(15-11-2016)

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Author: cepcarol

I'm a Eurasian of Portuguese, English, Scottish and Malay heritage. And my extended family are of Chinese and Indian heritage. My world is made up of different colours like the rainbow. And like the rainbow I am unique. Reading is my form of relaxation, to escape from the drudgery of daily life and enter into a world of the imagination. It is the love of reading that has led me to try my hand in writing short stories and poems. I hope that in some way my stories and poems will take you for a little while away from the drudgery of the present into the pages of imagination. To new friends found, I bid you, Welcome. Sincerely, C.E. Pereira

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