Behind The Wall Poem by Cheryl McDonnell

They like to hide
Behind the wall
From the autopsy tables
To the front room floor

Making haste now
For the door
They're coming out
From behind the wall

Follow me to the other side
I've have sight for the blind
If they don't come out I'll be tall
They are recruiting behind the wall

There are no doors, only eyes
To dismember their spies
They stick pins in maps
They're coming through the gaps

Conditions and lables
They strap us to their tables
Make numbers of us all
They take us back behind the wall