I was a rock

Just random surfing this Sunday morning. And suddenly a song bringing back memories of my largely barren youth, not so painful this time (of many times), not anxious, mostly just resigned and slightly sad. I was a wall, protected by my books and my poetry, gazing through the window to the streets below, for only too many burning years. In the past, in the past tense now, no longer a rock, no longer an island - a kind of a success story, no, a true success story. But the path could have shorter been, to quote myself...