The Bane of My Existence

For as long as I can remember,
It has towered
Over me.
It's cruel surface pricking my fingers
With small wooden needles.
My parents say it's to keep me safe,
But I still taste the bitterness of confinement
On my tongue.
The knock of wood as the wind blows against it
Sounds like mocking, teasing laughter.
When rain comes and I leap outside,
I am greeted witht eh wet smell of wood
And I am remided of the barrier between
Me and the world.