My Wall Of Glory

It's a very small room, empty space it misses
Just large enough to house all my wishes,
My thoughts, my personality, some of my dreams,
And at times my truths, and even my schemes.
When I gaze up, my eyes view roses so red,
Standing tall as if picked fresh just from their bed.
Silk flowing curtains tied back in the border,
Inside gold frames made without special order.
A vine of pink roses cascades down the wall,
Beside and across the pictures so tall.
And in between, porcelain butterflies flutter,
High above my desk shelf filled with much clutter.

Two angels stand guard as my time ticks by.
A young girl smiles with a sparkling hi.
A clear crystal vase holds still more roses,
And beneath their ceramic, Tigger just doses.
"The Miracle of Friendship" hangs on my right wall,
Just to remind me I must always stay small.
Certificates of things they say I have achieved,
Show all I have done, so it is believed.
Books, disks and papers scattered here and there,
Just thrown about as if I really don't care.

And to my left is my great wall of glory,
Where pictures and lines tell their own story.
It's a haunting of sorts, or so it might seem,
To be honest with you, you would probably scream.
But all the horrors of papers and clutter in here,
I cannot part with for I hold them all dear.
For you see, each piece was is a special gift,
Given to me so my soul it would lift.
And each special story which hangs on that wall
Was written with love, words written to enthrall.

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