Birds don’t know – nor the winds slow,
Animals big and small go to and fro
Seeds, bugs, and germs pass through
As do men some who carry contraband
For my willing many buying drugs.
Are your sellers more wrong than my buyers?
Others pass to get low pay, hard, dirty jobs
Mine will not take these demeaning jobs.
Are poor workers wrong or the greedy bosses?
It’s only men who know these drawn blue lines,
That determine what is mine not yours and
Who gets or pays works both ways.
If I build a high wall on the drawn blue line,
And create other barriers to keep out
Your drugs, your poor workers and
All those who do not look or pray like me,
Because I think they might hurt my friends,
Will I also keep out those who could benefit me,
Even deer and antelope who only want to play?
Wait – one minute, aren’t these the lands
We Stole from the original Americans,
Or lands taken by force from the Mexicans.
The very lands that made some very rich
By slaves we stole from African homes?
But its OK we’re White
That makes it Right.
Or does it?
“Tear down this Wall”