My youth, a time for wandering,

For finding, touching, pondering,

For sharing dreams and giving back

The smiles of which I had no lack.

But then I saw that some were crying

From loss, and hate, and fear of dying.

To keep me safe from others’ trials,

I built a fence to hide my smiles.

Against the throng my gate is rattling.

Approach denied through ceaseless battling.

The needful souls that strive to touch

Will never have my heart to clutch.

Outside my fence–a world amassing,

And with regret, I hear it passing.

Too late to have what might have been,

For fencing out . . . is fencing in.