The Wall

As I push against the brick and mortar,
Nothing moves. Its thickness
Was created to withstand any
Man’s attempt to enter.

My fists are battered and bruised
From the constant beating.
I claw, maul, nothing moves.
The fortress before me
Will never weaken.

I lunge with my head, determined
To get inside. My head cracks open
And hundreds of ideas explode everywhere.
Stunned, I fall.

Someone comes along and helps
Me to my feet, then leads me
Around the corner
To a side door.

Which opens easily,
Allowing my mortified self
Easy access to the interior.

In dismay I admit there's
Always an easier, better way!

Dianne Borowski

Bay Village

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Volume 8, Issue 17, Posted 11:14 AM, 09.07.2016