The Blockhouse

Here am I in the Blockhouse,
Full fed up with the game;
Locked here five months and more,
Inside a sphere without a door
And every day the same.

Here am I in the Blockhouse,
Like a hornet under glass;
Watching the mecha sentry go,
Up and down, and to-and-fro,
As the policeships pass.

Here am I in the Blockhouse,
Sand from a floating shore;
A daily spin of dark and shine
Tied by the same old bit of line
Spun from imperishable Law.