Behind these walls I rejoice —
even without hearing my own voice of reasoning.
Who needs selfish logic when the world is ablaze?
It appears bullets are the answer, guns raised —
the only way out of the guarded maze.
Divided we fall like towers,
hitting hard concrete, tears in April, creating showers.
Depression leaps forth to no avail —
a loved one goes to be with the Lord,
and the prisoners remember them through snail mail.
Behind these walls I mourn —
while hearing my own voice of reasoning.
We need altruistic logic when the world is ablaze!
It appears prayers are the answer, crosses raised —
the only way out of the guarded maze.
Together we stand like towers,
hitting hard concrete, tears in April, creating showers.
Our joy breaks through fresh days anew,
ebullient souls jump into a liberated state.
Free spirits of once captive nations patiently wait
outside of the cold concrete —
April showers of happiness surround their feet.