Four Walls

Four great walls have hemmed me in. Four strong, high walls: Right and wrong, Shall and shan’t. The mighty pillars tremble when My conscience palls And sings its song-- I can, I can’t.

If for a moment Samson’s strength Were given me I’d shove Them away from where I stand; Free, I know I’d love To ramble soul and all, And never dread to strike a wall.

Again, I wonder would that be Such a happy state for me ... The going, being, doing, sham-- And never knowing where I am. I might not love freedom at all; My tired wings might crave a wall-- Four walls to rise and pen me in This conscious world with guarded men.