It is a war fought from many battles,
Price of protection, jewel of innocence.
Outside the galvanized barbs are poised,
Curled like a brood of snakes,
Where the wounded pass by, one by one
In their febrile and malign
States of mind.
Inside life subsists
By the stringy shadows,
A swrirling chamber of wire
And claws that graze the skin,
Abrasions of cruelty in words,
Sharp as a razor edged thought.
The stormclouds gather
Over the muddy fields
Where the war for protection
Wages, unseen by the casual shades
That wander freely in their
Pipedream delights.


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