Defense

Behind the ego,
Bastion of self defense,
Lies the fragile heart of a child once broken,
Torn down and destoryed,
Lifted from the ashes once more,
Made whole in part,
With promise of future bright,
Of security and caring,
Such possibilities in summer light.

Yet with winter comes darkness,
A home and yet a world detacted,
And with every step in this new land,
The child cries out,
Cold and alone,
Fearing the hurts return,
Fearing no more light.

So walls are built higher,
Defenses made hard,
Protect the child at all times,
Silence the screams,
Until walls are all that are left,
The cries are no more,
Protected or smothered,
No longer clear,
This bastion of defense,
All that remains now the cold veneer.

© 2007 Rob Jones.