I see the walls that surround me
whenever I sit and write.
Those same walls caress me
when I sleep at night.
One of the walls holds my closet
where all my clothes are hung.
One of my walls is weary
from listening to songs I've sung.
I see the wall I love the best,
the one with the windowed view.
Whenever I look beyond that window
I can still see our rendezvous.
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Comments about this poem (Walls by Edwina Reizer )
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