Written around the defining fracture of a childhood accident, this poem explores the masonry built to survive the sudden quiet of the aftermath. It honors the protective armor of long-term solitude—not as passive withdrawal, but as an act of profound preservation that shielded a vulnerable spirit while quietly waiting to be known.
Joy was the only sky I knew,
Family and friends, a simple map.
I walked a world of golden light,
Unaware of the coming trap.
A split second, a screech of steel,
The child becomes a man of stone.
The carefree boy is cast away,
To walk the gravel path alone.
The crowded tables thin and fade,
A stranger in a different frame.
With heavy shape and clouded eye,
I am not invited to the game.
I offer kindness, open-handed,
Yet fear the sting of being known.
A lifetime built on solitude,
I harvest seeds that I have sown.
The hunger for a friend remains,
But guarded by the ghosts of play;
The little boy inside the wall
Still keeps the world an arm’s length away.
