Ruth Sequeira

Alone I sat on the third red step
and stared at the wall where creepers have crept.

Where once a gate, a pathway and friendly neighbour stood
stands now a tall white wall and the rest is gone for good.

Once women crossed over to talk the afternoon
now, they haven't spoken since many a moon.


The bumble bee and red flower bush have gone,
even the pleasantries between neigbours in the early morn.

A wife and a religion brought from a far off land,
where children once entered she has now banned.

The short wall has doubled in height,
the hatred snowballed, what was once just a fight.

The smiles must return, there should be an end to the frowns.
The wall can't go higher, it must come down.