The tower

If I build a tower,
with one door,
and no windows.
Would you know I
was ever there?

Hard cement
blocks,
as high as a mountain.

No kindness,
no love,
just a cold empty tower.

A tower to
withstand  a lifetime
of events,
a tower to last
the present and the past.

Alone I wonder its halls,
remembering,
what it must have felt like
to be open to all
to come in and out and visit.
Wondering what it must have felt like to have
the sun kiss your skin.
Now the darkness has come
and my fate has been sealed.
I am but a tower.