Plastered walls of preservation,
Keep the vexed outdoors away.
A shelter for me, momentarily,
In this fleeting fragile state.
And when I’m up again and going,
Better, in some time again—
I’ll tear the walls down daringly
And feel the sheer force of a pen,
Swiftly gliding on some paper.
Seemingly a little weak.
Although ready for nearly anything,
I no longer am so meek.