• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 08
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Holding the Wall

A corridor of green says go
But we are stuck to the wall
Our legs bent in recoil
We remain seated.

We have no where to go
Our bodies start to rise
Only to find we are glued to
the glass blocks of remorse

The light says go our minds say no
We are holding up the wall of sorrow
As we settle back into the familiarity
of wanting to leave but afraid to go.