Wall

A wall is made.
It is expected to be a perfect wall.
To stand tall. To weather the elements.
To come out the other side unscaved.
To do what is expected of all the other walls.
Not to show the weak spots in its fondation.
Not to crumble or chip away.
In reality, all walls crumble.
The walls perfect surface will become stained and cruaded.
It will lose its corners and began to sag in the middle.
And the other walls will look down on it for falling apart.
The wall, with the loss of its support, will fall in a heap of dust.
It will become nothing but unrepairable rumbage. It will be
sweeped away and soon replaced with another wall.
A perfect wall.