the wall and the road

In the city of my mind,
I have this wall.
This tall, large, thick, wall.

I used to be able to ignore it,
Everything I ever needed to do was inside the limits of my wall.
When I was small, I was curious and traveled to the very edge.

“That’s farther than most kids your age go,” they said.

I just nodded my head and went along.

But as I grew up, the closer to the wall I was required to go,
Until eventually, I was face-to-face with it,
Unable to go through.

“I can’t go past here,” I said,
“There’s a wall blocking my path.”

“No there isn’t,” they said,
“It’s the road. Everyone has them. That’s just what its like.”

I didn’t agree, but I tried anyway.
I couldn’t walk through, so I tried to dig down,
I ended up hitting rock bottom.

“That’s not how you walk the road,” they said,
mocking my dirty face.

I tried again.
I tried to climb the wall.
Using ridges and ledges, I climbed.
Miles, it seemed, I climbed, but went nowhere.
Until I made a misstep and fell back down.

“You’re so clumsy,” they said
“Do it again, but actually try this time.”
I did. I tried again.

And again,
                     and again,
                                       and again,
                                                         and again,

Yet I could never get past this wall.
I eventually started calling out to my friends on the other side.

“It’s just a brick road,” my friends said,
“Some have more cracks, but it is all the same.”

That’s when I looked up at this towering,
Monstrous solid cinderblock wall,
and all I could say was,

“This is not a road”

I was a fish judged on how I could climb,
or a cat on their ability to bark.

“There is a wall, I can’t get through,”
I say.

“It’s just a road”
they say.