These Walls

These walls, will be my undoing

they speak

they clam mer to the beat of my own solitude

contently beating down any joyous mood

and purposely prevent me from reaching a place to sooth

this bloody fist is but a pebble to the force that contains me

binding me isolated

forcing me to battle insanity

my weapon of choice, imagery

the simple grouping of words produce angelic poetry

Hand me my paintbrush, my wond, my pen

and canvas of paper upon my easel

my pallet of paint conjured by emotions

from elation to utter despair

passionate reds, envious greens, sorrowful black

they're all there

no model is needed or tangible inspiration

no ambient sound of a soothing nature

the entire universe is but a paint stoke away

sentences and phrases, my pathway

a flick of the wrist and a creative spell

to transform these vicious walls into submissive gel

I sold my time for masterpieces

traded my personality for graceful poetry

given my soul for wizardry

and willingly executed my jealously for freedom

after I captured its essence of course

to display for the window shoppers and looky loos

that stroll the streets where my galleries are

the land I set aside just for the wonderer's and tourist

that want to view pain

without sacrificing their own soul

and all I charge, is time

not love or your hearts

because I've already ruined mine

so I'm incapable to nourishing something so fine

these slabs of concrete torment my reason

tossing shadows of my loved ones between them

knowing that I need them

my eyes have completely traded sides on me

they team up with these walls and form trickery

rendering my imagination my only oasis

to steal my creativity

would be stripping me of my bases

on which in I've used to build

this protective layer specializing in these lonely cases

I've beat my head against these stubborn bricks

until my skull willingly split

and whats left is here for you to read

these walls were my undoing