‘Broken Down Walls’ by May Edwards

As your hands tap incessantly on the glass wall between us,
I cannot help but smile at your naivety.
As your calloused fingers try desperately to redeem us,
I try so hard to climb over the wall that you built so easily.

I wish I could bridge the gap between us.
I wish the things that once connected us could unite us again.
The guards at the wall look pitifully at us.
They know that this glass wall is our end.

They tell me I am too dangerous to reach you.
They nag me that I could have hidden weapons, I could be a criminal.
They pry me apart with their eyes. I don’t know what to do.
Their insults remain unoriginal.

The glass wall is thicker now than ever.
Since those whose names I don’t know tried to break through.
They think I am just like them; that I am no better
than simple criminals I never even knew.

So, I sit here, as I have for years now.
I wait for them to understand me still.
I hope they see who I am, and perhaps how:
I am not the one they should kill.