Have my own tribe of four
So much fiercer and protective
My borders are mere margins,
through which escapes the empty apathy of before
Break down a wall build a igloo,
It's a simple perspective,
My tribe and I shall be warm w/in
With hearts of clover and blades of grass
So that no bleeding hearts of pity,
Shall enter, their chill shall always find
a less temperant pass,
So that when these troubles diminish,
We shall build a stable home and heart w/in
the walls of any city
