Years of sediment, clogging rooms;
Dusty mustiness, ever-seeping silt.
I can't change. I'm fotified inside
While I shed dead layers for dust.
No pruning. No renewal.
Fling the windows wide! Open the doors!
Crumbling lives, decaying days.
Habit-encrusted, armour-stiffened,
I crouch, vulnerable, behind my wall.
Outside the world looms, threatening.
Can I ever again see the sun?
Fling the windows wide! Open the doors!
