Building the Prison from the Inside

A mason by trade in this glorious land.
The buildings in this city owe themselves to my hand.
I take pride in my work.
But this latest job lurks
O’er freedoms which now have been banned.

Mixing mortar and forms to fill with concrete
No spring to my step, only shuffling my feet
Though the coils of wire
Have drawn furious ire
This wall is now nearly complete.

A barrier divides Berlins West and East
Like a looming grey giant – a razor-topped beast.
This prison of my making
Leaves my heart aching
I think I’ll go seek out a priest.

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