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Rated: E · Essay · Inspirational · #1296971
Breaking through the walls we build
The facade must be broken, for the person standing in front of you is not the person you see. The costume he wears has been stitched slowly through time. It has been worn with false pride,encouraged by others. It is the armor in which he battled life, worn to protect him from false friends, whom abandoned him in time of need. The few close to his heart knows this to be true. Standing before you is a man frightened by the future, unable to freely move ahead. The weight of his costume prevents him from doing so.

Like a puppy in a new home peering from under the sofa, slowly he removes the mask, watching the reaction of others.There is none, strange he thinks. He moves about his day the sunshine finally upon his face, he feels the warmth. A nod here, a smile there, he returns them to the strangers passing by.A gentle breeze flows through his hair, releasing a deep sigh he is relieved. He is older now and begining to realize the battle has passed him by. As he looks down at the buttons of his heavy leather coat, he feels confined.

Trapped still, wanting the breeze to cool his body, slowly he unbuttons his heavy coat. With a deep breath the air flows around his body. Standing silent he looks for the reaction of others. Again there is none, a quiet "excuse me" from a passerby,he slowly steps aside. No longer needed he sheds his coat, it hits the ground with a heavy thump. His soul is lighter now, inching forward into his new life but something is holding him back. Peering down he notices the anchor.

On one knee, nervously he unbuckles his boots one at a time. Boots he has worn for many years, which has kept him upright in the time of the battle. Raising his body he steps away, cautiuosly one step at a time. Pausing, he looks again for the reaction of others. This time there is one, "good morning" the passerby announces as she strolls by. He returns the gesture with a smile on his face. The sun upon him, the breeze flowing, he continues forward.

Turning he looks upon his armor strewn about, then looks about his surroundings and wonders why he could no longer see the battle. As the wind swept across his armor and by him he,for a moment heard the cry of the fight and it became clear. After all the years, he spent perfecting his suit, the battle was sewn inside his facade. Quietly he turns away and welcomes what is to come.

© Copyright 2007 A.J. Garofalo (anthonyjoesph at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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