<$BlogRSDURL$> Image by D. Meade
Official Frank Serpico Blog
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
This is one of my favorite poems which speaks of the slow creeping pace of greed, corruption and many other sinister elements that impact us . How, if we are not always vigilant, and how as innocent children we are imposed on by adults and society -- their habits and prejudices and little by little it takes hold and makes us like them and then we wonder how we got there.

Walls (1896) by Constantine P. Cavafy (1863-1933)

Without consideration, without pity, without shame,
they have built great and high walls around me.

And now I sit here and despair.
I think of nothing else: this fate gnaws at my mind;

for I had many things to do outside.
Ah why did I not pay attention when they were building the walls.

But I never heard any noise or sound of builders.
Imperceptibly they shut me from the outside world.

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