The Rotting Wall

I started building my wall a long time ago
each day i laid a brick or two to help it thrive and grow
sometimes to hide my worries, or my assuage my pain
or simply to hide from life itself, and its oppressive rein

My beautiful shelter, it's quiet, dark and dry
so I can't see how sad I look when I break down and cry
there are no mirrors anywhere
there is no beauty here

because seeing beautiful things only comes with pain
ugliness is beauty's twin after drowning in the rain

I'm all alone in my shelter, that how i wanted to be
hiding from the world itself so no one could judge me
Sometimes i hear the laughter, of the world I used to know
and i just have to wonder why they're putting on a show.