I’ve sat upon you;
Felt your top when sad.
Made gardens on you;
For insects like ants.
Ive hid behind you;
When I had been bad.
Stubbed my fags on you;
Kicked you for a lad.
Your made of bricks;
Of bricks and mortar.
But your more than that.
Your a wall. My wall.
And you’ll always have my back.
This was for national poetry writing month, a random prompt today; write about masonry!
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