Fences
The last time we met
on opposite sides of the fence
he asked why I was there.
I believed it was the side to be on.
He told me what I was risking
nothing I didn’t already know
stated the danger to my family, my future
nothing we hadn’t already overcome
how I didn’t owe anyone anything
that I had to look after what was mine.
That’s not how I want to live
I chose to be here, on this side of the fence
Of course I’d rather be there
on that side of the fence,
protected, comfortable, immune.
More than this I want the fence taken down
these are people not cattle, nor criminal
while the fence is staying up
I’ll help as many through, before I claim my right to passage.
He said I was risking nothing and proving nothing
but it seemed to be bothering him enough
to mock me and call me a part-time martyr
I hope somewhere inside he was embarrassed
at wanting to be free to join me, if only for a moment.
You could die here, they could clear the place, and deny you.
Die here or die there, what’s the difference
Safety is a luxury
but dreams are essential, essential as blood and air.
This freedom to choose is a privilege
too valuable to ignore, too precious to hide away
Comfort complacency suspicion, these are criminal
He reminded me Charity begins at home.
This is my home, I intend to be charitable
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