The Wall of Life

by Richard Ong

I slam relentlessly against the wall.
My skin cracks.
Blood trickles through fissures on my hand,
on my feet and on my face.

Ever protective is the snow.
She is my wife and constant companion
underneath the glow of the street lamp where I sleep.
The wind is my concubine,
teasing and hardening the wall around me.

But oh, I ache to be free of this smothering love,
to divorce my wife and flee from the caresses of my concubine.
With renewed resolve I batter against the wall,
now so thick and ever so cold.

I hit hard again and again.
My blood flows freely but I feel no pain.
Finally the wall cracks and I give it one last blow.
It shatters.
I push through.
I am free!

I look down on my prostrate form,
still under the street lamp,
still covered with snow.
I shrug;
I turn to the light,
away from the wall of life!