It is easy enough
To blame it all on
Cyril Radcliffe
But he was just
Doing his job
He just drew
Lines on paper
As he was told to
It is the partitions
In our hearts
In our minds
That have transmuted
Those paper partitions into
Partitions on the ground
Borders, fences, barricades
Check-posts, concertina wire
No man's land
It is easy enough
To erase
Lines on paper
Not so
Partitions in our hearts
Or in our minds
Unless each of us
Sets out to undo
In our hearts
In our minds
What Radcliffe did
On paper
We will all continue
To inhabit
No man's land