The Wall (part 6) - (an original poem)

Walls are not just bricks and cement
They are the things we say and mean and yet

Regretting the true words spoken in jest
Alone we feel safe from all of the rest
Bricks are little but they add up and grow
And nothing else can, within their shadow.
We keep out the riff-raff with all our labours
Frost said: “good walls make good neighbours”.
Emerging occasionally from our narrow doorway
It is not “how” but “who are you?” we say.
Our efforts keep out all the unknown dangers
But turn potential friends into perpetual strangers
Alone we’re safe but alone we cower
And our sad walls grow tall to become our tower.