Walls

Walls are high on a self-reign street

no crowd to applaud the steps

mere effort, chuckles in silence —

even then it pierces through.

those eyes — only those with sharp

constricted eyes can see through fog

swords, there are swords dancing

swords that cut without knowing

a spot to reign — an endless game

carry pain to catch the fame

stand well and dare not tell

keys to unlock? band of twisted tongues

barefoot, then we move onto glass ground

it comes without warnings — seething sands

tricky tickles that calm feet — flee fleet.

sing a song, a rock-a-by.

cradle —

if not, hold still.

floors will move,

and some will break.