Moving On, and Other Clichés

I’ve drawn a line.
It’s not thin or red
Or scraped in sand
But it’s a line,
And I’ve drawn it.

And after the line
There will be a fence
More than rabbit proof,
It will be high,
Submitted with barbed wire.

And after that a wall
With guards and dogs and guns
And nowhere to pass through.
No turning back now,
I’ve drawn my line.

Now let’s see it hold.

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