“Behind the wall I made a little hole in,
I search for signs of hope and goodness, stolen.
When I learn of all the circumstances love is abused,
I only grow that much more confused.
The way I was back then is how I remain;
now I think all love comes with pain.
Every gift comes with a guilty wrap;
every praise I seek becomes a slap,
not literal, much more invidious.
Add it too the wall that blocks out trust,
keep me locked inside a self-built room
that day-by-day becomes more like a tomb.”