Poem I Wrote

I actually wrote this poem some time ago, but recently found it stored away on my computer and wanted to share it.

Fences

From crying, to crawling, to walking

To the first words out of my mouth

All there have been are fences.

Fences to the right, left, in front and behind.

Fences that reach eternal agony

And poke through roads made of gold.

Fences that keep children in yards

And fences that make neighbors good.

Fences can be taken down.

Fences can be jumped.

Shortcuts taken turn into 40-year journeys,

Retold by scar upon scar.

As I grow the fences shrink.

The ends are reachable,

And the top approaching.

But new fences are appearing.

Even after the old fence builders are gone,

New fences pop up everywhere.

Like tulips sprouting

From a long winter slumber.

Who can explain these new lineaments

More visible than The Great Wall.

Who built these fences that appear

As others disappear.

The old fence builders are gone,

Who replaced them.

I did, I replaced the old fence builders

Now I, I am the builder of fences.

good thing this guy is behind a fence