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Marc Darnell

Bricklayer


My heart builds walls wherever I roam,

now wary to fall in love for the eighth time.

I hold back the tears till I get home


to write another bruised poem

with self-loathing and clever rhyme

of how I build walls wherever I roam.


I visit my widowed mom, her hospital room

of anemic fluorescence and septic slime,

holding back the tears till I get home-


sick, and drive back to my Google Chrome

for YouTube fails or Amazon Prime.

My heart build walls wherever I roam,


and I've roamed far, toting my broom

to sweep all heavy memory and its grime

as I hold back tears and find a new home


and contemplate which one will be my tomb

with heart hard and love left to whom?

My heart builds walls wherever I roam.

I hold back the tears till I get home.