Brick Walls, a Venting Poem

Brick Walls

A brick wall I have often met

a thousand times and many yet.

A wrecking ball is what I need

to get them to pay any heed.

“Don’t think this and don’t feel that.

I know more than you do, brat.

I may be wrong now, then, and soon

but I’ll always be right, buffoon.

This is what I may believe

but it’s a fact. Don’t like it? Leave.

You’re wrong for thoughts not quite like mine

and if you’re alien, I’ll whine.

Try a million things you hate

you may like one, that’s worth the wait!

Feeling rough? Try breathing slow.

I’m a genius, don’t you know?

Have a fact? It’s just a lie.

All opinions I’ll deny.

I got my masters on the ‘net.

That makes me correct I bet.

You disagree? Well, that’s a trap!

I’ll fill your ears with endless crap!

You will submit or think like me

because not me is misery.”

A brick wall they will spew in short

with little self-aware support.

I wish my tongue came with a ball

to knock the walls of one and all.

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