Old Walls (A Poem)

Old walls
Stand strong
The test of time
It touches all
Some pieces crumble
And fall away
But the center holds

The center holds
Fast against the weight
It dares to last
The old walls
Rise from solid earth
And all around
New life brings new light

Bright again
Old walls
Tell the tale
Of many moments made one
And become part of
The halls of history
For each and all

6 thoughts on “Old Walls (A Poem)

  1. I second Julie–lovely picture. I have always loved old buildings and the ruins of old buildings. There is just something about them–at least some of them–that refuse to fall down, as if to say “I am still standing.” It is a good metaphor for life, and your poem captures that.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you! I agree – there’s just something about old buildings and ruins. Whenever I see an old chimney standing alone, I get a little chill thinking about the house it used to be part of, the family who lived there, the history and the stories it could tell, and I’m glad that at least a piece of all of that is still standing.


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