As Trump prototype walls are assessed and my back garden wall remains work in progress, penned this little poem....

Brick by Brick

 I got some bricks, cement and sand

With water, trowel, a plotting line.

Thought of how to turn my hand

To leave a symbol of something fine.

I had my patch, could build so tall,

Keep to myself my piece of space.

I could build a monstrous wa...

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