Long ago
I used to know
A lady who thought that Communism was best.
So, we sat drinking fine wine
(Enjoying the trappings of the west),
And I would smile while
She argued that the Berlin wall
Must not fall
As it protected,
The system she respected.

She was neither bad nor mad
But I, as a mere lad
Could see
The people of the east were not free.
A precocious teenager I was
Who argued because
I believed,
And also I perceived
That it was fun
To have adults on the run.

Now the wall has come down
And secret policemen drown
Their sorrows in champagne,
And use their brain
For financial gain.

My old friend
Saw Communism’s end.
I wonder does she remember a precocious teen
Who did preen,
Yet maintained a dream
That tyranny would end
And believed,
That for all its faults
The West
Was best?


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