If Walls Could Talk

If walls could talk they would tell you about the people who lived in between them. Trying to utilizing whatever little space they had to be comfortable. Watching as they clawed at the paint in hopes of digging their way out from between them; Wondering: if they escaped would they just be in another room with bigger walls. If walls could talk they would also tell you that there were good times, where they would decorate every inch of its surface with all kinds of trinkets and decorations. No matter the fact that it was a space limited to a bed and a desk with room only to turn around in. All of them would still find joy in spending time there, between the walls; watching movies, playing games, and just enjoying quality time with one another. Sometimes the walls would even miss the people within them, only being a space with stuff, gathering dust without them. The walls would say it was a joy to have everyone back again with the clamoring and rumbling of feet, the high pitch wails of laughter, the barking of the dogs, the meows of the cat. Having people within the walls for so long makes you feel as if you're part of the family; in every picture took, every candle blew out, every mess made, you were a part of it. The walls would endure the isolation with the person left alone, hoping to create any comfort, to quell the loneliness containing their cries. There wasn't much the walls didn't experience that the human did. It could also tell you about anger, with every shake and puncture of the confining corners, then patching the mistakes after it has been through it all. The walls would contemplate, as if wondering it's purpose: am I meant to shelter or am I meant to trap. Are these same walls going to experience the life of the next people within them differently? Will the walls have less things to say if they were just walls with no purpose but to create barriers? If I could talk would I bare every intimate moment for all to know, every secret, whisper said with a hushed tone. When new people would move in would I tell them I prefer someone else to live within my walls. Could I tell someone the long forgotten history of someone of importance who lived in between. Maybe I can be walls that keep treasure and riches within them, for all who dare to explore. The potential of what kind of wall I could be is quite a long list; I could be so great that it would be impossible to get over or under me. Then again I could be a meek wall, hardly even considered to be a wall; more like a step. I could even be more complicated, like a maze, endlessly having someone walking alongside of me, trying to find their way out. A outside wall made from bricks sounds nice; admired by passer byers, who dream to live within me. I think I would like to be a wall that you could go around, not keeping others in or out but a place to enjoy some shade on a hot sunny day. I think the last thing I would tell you as a wall are my fears that someday someone's going to break me down and there won't be any walls but just a pile of rubble. There would be no barriers, no secrets kept within, no safety. I won't have anything to say then there will be no walls just an open world with everything exposed.