Groups of 4

One of these days...

Untitled

If I could hide the face,
and all the rest,
behind a wall, a solid wall
it would still not be silenced.

The pain is like a chain around my neck,
it trips me over my steps,
it's rust stains my flesh,
the chain around my neck.

The steps I leave behind,
will always be followed with a line,
no matter how I try,
I can not change my mind.