WitWall- Part One

In a city so far away,
Closed in by walls of stone,
Where all the world is built of blocks
And each person lives alone.

There perfect blocks of bleached blank space,
They stretch into the sky
And walls so tall enclose it all,
E’en where that city dies.

From tall perfect buildings so dead to the world
Reaches onward the city limits,
Falling away with each passing day
Where the edges crumble to bits.

___

K, this is just the introduction of what promises to be a long poem. I won’t say much about it because I hope it will say it all. If you read this before the next part is put up tomorrow, I hope you will try to image this city. It is from a dream I had a while back. I can’t really describe it in poem like it was in my dream (more like I am being lazy, and since it is really hard, and decided I would rather get the feel across).

“There perfect blocks of bleached blank space” are what everything is built out of. It would probably help you picture it is I said it looks like a city made out of graph paper, or maybe cubes of sugar. It keeps growing in one direction, never looking back, and always trying to be bigger and better, leaving behind it a crumbling ruin. And around it all is a huge red brick wall, so tall that you can’t even see the top. The people there are shadows. Dead. Empty. Lifeless. They look like simple figures of people made from white clay.

I hope the scene is a clear one. I am probably going to re-write this. Again. And again. And again. Until it is perfect.

FEEDBACK IS MY BEST FRIEND, SO PLEASE RATE AND COMMENT. ESPECIALLY WITH THIS POEM, I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR WHAT YOU PICTURED WHEN YOU READ PART ONE!

Check out my Jog-A-Thon page please! We were just told that if we don’t get enough money to pay for the new building that we are going to have to cut the Kindergarten class because we won’t have space for them. So please, every dollar helps!

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