There lies a wall

Brand new, covered in cement and grout

She lies strong, untouched, unweathered

They pass by, admiring her strength

They pass by, admiring the smell of new bricks

He passes by, tempted, oh so tempted

It is untouched- the perfect canvas for an artist

He will change her

All he needs are his spray cans

Night falls. Tonight is his chance

Under the moonlight and starlight that have treated her so well

They watch

He changes her. He forms her.

In the morning, they pass by

They admire the way his art stretches from one end to the other

The wall bears his mark

The artist is proud

One man passes by

The art could be made so much better if only a few additions…

He waits until nightfall

Under the moonlight and starlight he paints

He grins smugly as he stretches the artwork to cover her entirely

There is so much paint

It drips artfully to puddles lying at her base

The morning shows her in all her stunning beauty

They pass by, some admiring, some shaking their heads

One boy passes by and attempts to bring her to her former glory

He chips at the paint

Her bricks lie exposed, chipped and weathered

Years pass.

Many have passed. Many have made their marks.

Strong though she may be, this wall is covered

“David loves Rachel”

“Screw the police; legalize marijuana”

“Trust no one”

Many pass by. No one admires.

Some pass by and shiver in disgust.

Few remember the days of the wall’s glory

Chips and breaks and cracks devalue her

She becomes worthless.

Then he passes by. He sees beauty where no one saw it before.

He pulls out his camera.

He admires. He brings his friends to admire her beauty

He loves the way she stands, marked and wounded.

He finds value in her, despite the remarks of the many surrounding him

He ignores their opinions, and claims this wall as his favorite.

When he is sad, he walks to the wall

Shielded by her height, he hovers and cries

When he is delighted, he walks to the wall

Nearly skipping all the way, running his hands past the artwork gracefully

He smiles at the wall.

She smiles back at him.

Sometimes when the night falls, passersby will make marks

In the morning, he is there to observe the new art

Most of the time, he finds the artwork undeserving of such a canvas,

But he continues to admire the wall anyway

In time he grows to love even those marks as a part of her

The wall crumbles year after year

The man walks slower still

Under the moon and stars that observed the wall at her birth

The man scoots

He huddles underneath the embrace of the wall

With his last breath, he whispers to her breaks

“My beautiful friend, you will forever be my favorite. “

Then he smiles at her, and she at him. One last time.