This wall
that stares at me stupidly.
No amount of love nor hurt
affects it.
How many times I have carelessly
thrown water over it
dirty from the kitchen sink.
The wet wall dries up in no time
has never flinched at harshness.
There, all the time
in the scorching sun,
the pouring rain .
as long as I was
till I am, perhaps.
Traces of age
imprints of creepers
dried up in the sun.
The wall has no regrets.
So I thought
till i saw it cracking up.
A small crack
tiny, that only ants
could file through.
The crack grew wider bit by bit
i saw the bricks, the cement
that went into its making.
Within the crack a tiny plant
found refuge ,till in anger
I rooted it out..
The wall just stayed .
The cats the dogs jumped over
the crows sat and cawed
the creepers crept over
the snails lay trails
the birds left their droppings
occasionally i spat on it
kicked it
muttered curses over it.
All the time, the crack grew
like legs opening for new birth.
Like the final scream in giving birth
it finally collapsed
heaped up
bricks cement and all.
When i had done away with the debris,
he talked of building a new wall
higher stronger sturdier.
I just looked away and wept.
“The Wall”,provides the reader with an unusual subject matter and centre of imaginative attention with which to engage with,through a sympathetic poetic narrative.
Thank you for the comment..makes me feel good:::)))