By PLS
I built a wall to keep us safe,
from you. You found rocks,
ladders, poles and somehow
got yourself over the top.
I added course after course
to make it higher. You
discovered weak spots
easy to ram or blow.
I engineered more strength
stretching it, to the East,
to the West, an endless chore,
but futile. There you were.
I decided on corners then.
Ends met to make a fort.
“Success!” I thought and relaxed.
You appeared with parachutes.
So I designed a roof
that bounces missiles, too.
And tunnels? Ridiculous.
I’ll foil any dig you start.
I bugged the phone lines, jammed
the wireless and satellites.
What you couldn’t overrun
you will never subvert.
I’m secure now, though joy
seems to have fled with risk
and days drag. The good old songs
and movies are—well!—old.
I wonder sometimes what’s new,
what’s happening, on your side.
Maybe I can open a chink
and smuggle in some life.