Staring at this grainy bit of wall

With no one looking

No one looking at all

I noticed with one glance or two

A black eye ogling, it was true

One moment passed, and I turned again

But the lonely wall looked back

And called me its friend!

What is this? I asked

In the dead silence as I lay

This homely chunk of nothing wanted to play

Singing its song, so silent and queer

Suggesting I float up closer to hear

The whispering between its slight worn cracks

Tickling my ear with a maniacal whack

What can this mean? Should I close my eyes and scream?

Up into the cruel alabaster concrete

Wide flatness, a prison from the shy stars above

No one here to look at

No one here to love

Just this plain old wall and my eyes so weary

The light is dim and my brain’s growing dizzy

As shadows flit on and off in my daze

Four walls echoing in a lucid haze

This fine bit of wall, so secure and clean

Once so dirty, now seemed serene

Confused at this midnight hour, staring, I kept

Because the wall did not shout, cry nor accept

That I too was a wall, lonely and bare

White without hurry, white without care

Blank and cold, while twirling my hair