A Hole In The Wall Poem by Andrew Frattaroli

We all have anecdotes
We all have scars
Some in our hearts and some on our skin
But the true feelings
Are in the holes in the wall

Every hole has a different story
A climax but seldom a resolution,
A problem that was tucked under the bed for another sleepless night,
Raw emotion so pure that god himself couldn't tamper with it.

In every hole lies a heartbreak love song written in the jagged edges of the broken sheetrock

Telling stories of defeat before the triumph, or just more defeat.
The hole has always been there
Methodically waiting for you to make your move like a game of chess
Watching patiently

Waiting for the abrupt pull of the trigger
With a barrel fully loaded
That has been ready to unleash its power
Resting on the bedside table

Everything becomes red, blood red.
No time to think. Just act. NOW!
So the fist forms
And the eyelids shut leaving you in a cave of defeat and seemingly endless despair while the rest of your body acts with no control

There is no pain right away
Just blood and bruises
Just war scars for the veteran
Leaving an artistic masterpiece
A hole in the wall.