Fences.
They sprout like weeds.
The thorny kind.
Thistles in the way.
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Good poem, my friend. We have and we possess. In the process we isolate ourselves and make the neighborhood ugly. I have written a small blog entry on having but not possessing and I think you will like it. If yo type http: // immediately followed by reflectionsbyhans.blogspot.my/2017/03/having-yet-not-possessing.html you will reach the message.
a poem of feeling fenced in and of a freedom lost? ................well written