Pound Upon Your Walls
by: M. MacMinn
I bid upon your will
to read behind my eyes
To agree by the path you walk
and the doors you close behind
Still open enough for me to enter
and pound upon your walls
Now it's I that reads behind your eyes
breathing freedom, chained in stalls
A silent pass, a gentle touch,
the frustrating sound of yes
A mystery so pressed upon
we'll never have to guess
Fiction builds inside my mind
making stories real
The stories that I tell myself
make me scared to feel.
www.markmacminn.com
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