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Poem: Boundaries

The golden fields of childhood
Lined with verdant forests
Providing a soft boundary
Ripe for exploration

In my later years I went searching
For those fertile play grounds
To find them desolate
Surrounded by harsh concrete walls
Constraining the meager life
In rigid walls

Digging hands now calloused
Into the dusty dirt
Wrapping my fingers around a stone
Pulling it to the surface
It is rough and tough
Like the earth that bore it
The earth that was here before
These walls went up

With a single stroke
I strike it against the border
Seeking to open up
The pastures of youth

Copyright © 2021 TJS Sherman All rights reserved.


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