They are pulling down the old wall. <br />The stones are being scattered left and right. <br />They who so often felt the starshine fall like a caress upon their brows at night; <br />they whom the sun kissed day by day are being carted roughly far away. <br />They have been so many years together; <br />in close companionship, so much they've seen and heard; <br />enjoyed the calm and braved the stormy weather; <br />so much within their purview has occurred. <br />They who have lived so closely side by side are separated, scattered far and wide. <br />How hurt these good old stones must feel! <br />For they have made a pattern, once, for beauty. <br />They clung together for the common weal; <br />comrades they were, performing their high duty. <br />They're flung to left and right, and no one cares. <br />Only a passer-by with pity stares.<br /><br />Wilhelmina Stitch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-wall/
