Borders
I sought to mark
What was the border,
To provide my life
With some order;
I planted trees
Along the line
To demarcate
What was mine.
To certify
What was within,
These firs became
My outward skin;
But in these plans
I was forsaken
In what was mine
I was mistaken,
I was betrayed
By my own kin
Disloyalty
Lay within;
They cut the trees
That I had planted
My authority
Usurped, supplanted;
And so I crossed
The boundary line
An exile from
What was not mine;
And now I sit
Among these pines
And contemplate
My spark divine.
poem by David McLansky
Added by Poetry Lover
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