Rampart
Drifting around outside
It just sits there
Low brick no one there
But hanging a banner with a ribbon.
Try calling from a safe distance
Oh no it’s the Press Department
Empty writing nothing there
Not paper, not even ink, just a page.
Don’t let them know who you are
That's the word I hear
This goes on, nothing will change
It’s been that way for years.
Who wants the day of the Lord?
It shall be night without a glimmer!
When fortresses fall, nothing is left
The large house breaks, and the small one burns.
No one can do anything
There is nothing to do
This place will never change
Here, outside the rampart.
Copyright 1999 Rich Puchalsky
E-mail: rpuchalsky@worldnet.att.net
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Last modified: Sep 21, 01999