This little ditty was inspired by the photo prompt for Crimson’s Creative Challenge. I might write a more serious story later when I feel less revolutionary.
There are walls around this garden
And a gate that’s made of spears,
There are lawns and there is order
When the poor folk disappears,
There are guards to keep the people
In the place that they know best,
And laws that give the right to those
Who’ve stood time’s sacred test.
I’d rather have a hammer
Than any jewelled crown,
And I’d use with my little hammer to
Bring those walls tumbling down.