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  Brick and Mortar

I’ve come with
Brick and mortar
To repair the fortress of my soul,
Torn down by harsh-spoken words,
By these guilty and bleeding hands,
I pile brick on crooked brick,
Building upwards,
Upwards,
Up,
Around, around, around
Around,
No doorway through which to pass.
Walling myself in,
Walling others out.
This is my climax creation,
My jail cell
And my home,
My anguish,
And my comfort,
My turmoil,
And elusive peace.


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