TGWD's Photo and Poetry Corner

BRICK WALL

What can I say?

I'm just a bunch of bricks with some cement between.

I'm just standing here, doing nothing.

What can I say?

I'm just a wall, keeping things from passing through this spot here.

I'm doing the same thing I've been doing for...what, 50 or 60 years now?

What can I say?

I may have a few splotches of paint here and there from whatever they propped up against me to paint, but I'm about as clean as a brick wall can be?

I don't have the beauty of a hardwood fence or the texture of stucco, but I think I do pretty well for myself.

What can I say?

No one's ever going to ask me what I think of the knotty pine spite fence down the street that hasn't been painted since who knows when, and that's fine-o-me.

People pass me by without a look most often and as far as I'm concerned it's a good thing - it'd be worse if I had a bunch of posters and junk on me.

What can I say?

No one expects me to be anything more or less than what I already am, no one lays their hassles on me and usually the worst I get is an army of ants crawling up me every so often - it's cool.

All I am is a brick wall; something to take up space and keep everything in the yard behind me and everyone else outside of it. And you know what? I'm good with that.

What can I say?

I'm a brick wall. I can't say much of anything.

No lips.

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(c) 2010, photo and poem "Brick Wall" by TheGreatWhiteDope. This post has been brought to you by the Bloggers Involvement Of The Corresponding Hyperbole. Donations help keep this movement alive. Please support BIOTCH. Thank you.

Dope out.

- TGWD