Old wall

There’s a wall outside my place
That’s old and crumbling but strong.
It’s made of earth and stone and things
And I look at it and I think

How I’ll become that stuff one day
And how good it would be to look down and say
That at last i’ve become strong
And something with character

That serves a purpose.
Life is cyclical. We go
Round and round.
But at least we’re able to see this

As people, in this state.
How would it be if fate
Declared that we should only be
What we perceive ourselves to be?

We can be so more in this life
And after. Why wait for walls
When we can overcome what we see
As strife and know
That we have the highest perspective?

Our bodies remain
Like sediment in a drain.
But ourselves can understand this
And rise to gain

An understanding
That passes all this by.
We could be God
If we’d only try.


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