Beyond These Paper Walls

-Beyond These Paper Walls-
by Keaton Foster


Folded
Shaded
Wrinkled in the corners
Torn in a few places
Beyond these paper walls
I have never been
I’m right here
In an old wooden chair
At a faded roll top desk
Versions half finished
Cover all usable space
My mind overfilled
There is no foreseeable end
I’ll write until my death
Until there is nothing left
Whichever will come first
Never do I give it a second thought
Words are to become legends
They wait to be used
Implemented as I see fit
Nothing is something
At least in my mind
Until I make it so
Sure my ego is a bit much
But to you I must confess
That such an ego comes
At a price no one should pay
No human being should ever
Have to face what I faced
I write about it daily
I hide it in plain sight
Sometimes I make it all fancy
Some lines mean nothing to you
But to me they are God
The sum of it all will eventually
Bring clarity to my plight
But not anytime soon
Beyond these paper walls
In the distance
There is always a man
With a match
With an eraser
With some method
Of irreversible desecration
I fear him most of all
I have no idea who sent him
Was it God above
Was it the devil below
Or was it both
Do each equally have a stake
A way to make me pay
A further amount
Beyond everything
I’m unsure
But he is always there
So precise, so clear
Folded
Shaded
Wrinkled in the corners
Torn in a few places
Beyond these paper walls
Is all that I am building
Right now it’s just words
Just rhythm and rhymes
Just sentences both together
And very much alone
At this roll top desk
I’ll always sit
Pen in hand
Page to be enslaved
Words filling my head
Flooding from my finger tips
Such beautiful madness
Is at least attractive to some
Maybe long after this place
More will find interest
In what I have written
In my time here
Upon this earth
In my time here
Upon this old wooden chair…


Beyond These Paper Walls
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.