Yet again
Always
Picked each brick
Like a loving mother
Picking out clothes
For her child.
Placed nails
With the care
Of an artist
Selecting brush.
The iron bars
Casted as a blacksmith
Honors his craft.
The designs handled
As quilter pins each
Square in uniform.
And here again
Yet again
I awake
In a prison of my own
Making seeking
Paradise.
How can I resist
Fight these windmills
When I am the warden?
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