She strums a china guitar
I am a native rapper
They play on silver piano
She sings only soprano
But each behind iron borders
We never blend into symphonies

On East lane lives Mr. Baker
Down south is the Butler
Near west leans Mr. Brewer
Up North are the Buyers
Each behind tariff borders
We are poorer and hungrier

In a world of hate-peddlers
Imagine the world without borders
Mingling freely one with another
We all would live as brothers
But for these guns on our borders
Handshakes cannot stretch to others

These borders are becoming broader
Reaching up to our air spaces
Spreading far into sea spaces
Now censoring our cyberspaces
Each space choked with borders
Human expression is rarer and harder

Wind travels across all spaces
In Nature borders has no place
They are mere invention of our race
If we must retain our mace
And flourish with every pace
Then, bring down the borders!

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