A poem
by Chris Hibbard
Dec. 31, 2014


Walls are made to confine.
They surround the body and they capture the mind.
They are live images, pictures painted in time.

Walls are dull and grey.
Sometimes old and steel.
Cold to the touch and harsh to feel.

Walls hide the life. There is life outside.
Just waking to the day. Sensing the time.
Following the sound of the soul that cries.

Walls must be broken. They are made to confine.
A sign on the wall tells to find new life –
a new beginning for the body and mind.


~ by Chris Hibbard on December 31, 2014.

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