Walls

Walls

Imagine 4 Walls
Black and High
Much to the point
Where they touch the sky

You can sit there
And weep and cry
Much to the point
To when you die

Or you can look up
And see the blue
And praise the only color
Bestowed upon you

And if you look long enough
Into the blue
Your life might be blessed
With a rainbow or two

So you can
Just sit and cry
Or wipe your tears
And gaze at the sky

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