The Fence

We live in a fence

The sky is repentance

Enclosing a bubble

Its evanescence becomes the trouble

The fence is dead wood

Life begins where it once stood

Life’s roots are in the air

To reach them, we cannot use a stair

This fence keeps life away

Life begs, only once, to stay

We have lost past that moment

Turning into fence sitters who foment

Unrest, yet we lean on the fence for rest

To heal bruises of worldly conquest

Who said the fence does not have a gate

Once opened it cannot close, to the inner estate