As youths we felt quite vulnerable;
The sixties were helter-skelter...
We didn't trust our elders, yet
Depending on them for shelter.
Dad taught me to be paranoid,
“One has far too much to loose”...
The best defense for any invasion?
A month's supply of booze.
I built for half a century,
A fortress with my own two hands...
A mile-high wall around me,
Entirely of bottles and beer cans.
My wall's been incredible armour,
The thickness alone, great clout...
It has protected me from every thing,
By locking all beauty out.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.