I cornered off the world.
in 4 walls of my own.
I bought knives and rifles(rivals).
I yelled at the kids on the grass,
I put up a fence around the lawn.
I looked out the window
onto the street,
for the rest of my life.
I got old
I died.
Nobody noticed.
So squatters moved in
and made art
and did drugs
and tore down the walls.
When all the magic exploded,
released by bulldozers.
Something grew there that I hated
Something beautiful
unselfish
and violent.
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