Chalk Line

Men would live exceedingly quiet if these two words, mine and thine, were taken away.
-Anaxagoras, Greek philosopher, ca. 500 BC - 428 BC

Chalk Line

This is my side of the room, I say
when I am barely four feet high
but already territorial.
This is my side. I draw the line
with a piece of chalk;
my sibling now trapped
on his side of the shared bedroom-
the side, of course, that has no door.
How will I get out? he cries.
That is not my concern:
this is my side, I claimed it
and you cannot cross.
A piece of chalk makes it mine
your toe must not traverse my border
under any circumstances.
However, you can pay a toll
if you use my door
and cross the chalk line.
And you, my sibling says,
pay such a fine to me
for use of my quarters.
I sneer. I find that funny.
Why on earth would I
be concerned with your area
when I have drawn a chalk line
and affirmed my own?
I am content here.
But my side has the window,
my sibling declares.
Perhaps you want to see outside?
I snort and smirk.
This is a fine stretch of space
I need no window on the world.
What can the window show me
that I cannot see here
in my own chalk-marked plot?
Your side is inferior, I say,
but if I desired it
I could claim that just as easily.
And it continues with me thinking
that my plot is all I need.
I shall guard my place forever.

A voice booms from below,
shattering every illusion
reducing my reasoning to stupid splinters
DINNER, Mother cries.
Sibling runs across my patch,
I stand in a puddle of melted logic.

-TheElementary