I'm not talkin’ to the walls anymore. I heard they spilled their guts. About me! And, it was all over. But, it was later found out that someone tripped and spilt a plate of lasagna down the kitchen wall and didn’t get it all cleaned up. Sorry walls. I should have known that wasn't your guts. And, that it was only all over the kitchen wall. You always have my back and don’t care what kind of hang ups I have. Or how many things I pin on you. I can paint any old picture of life any way I see it and you still let me lean on you. You keep a roof over my head. You know the old saying “if only the walls could talk”. Well, mine don’t. If you know what I mean. And, only One other listens in. Thankfully. Have the guts to be a wall. Have the guts to have someone’s back. Have the guts to keep quiet. And, if you're gonna spill your guts to someone? Check their walls first to see if they have a good foundation and if they have any "spilt guts stains" on their walls. Lastly? Have the guts to spill your guts…to God. He is my wall. He is my all. Trace
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