The buyer signed the contract smugly sure
The guarded walls he’d bought would keep away
The street-game children, noisy in their play;
The beggars, hungry, hideous, and poor;
The Bible salesmen coming door to door;
Annoying relatives, who’d overstay;
Do-gooder activists, with things to say.
Unwelcome faces would intrude no more.
He should have known the contract was a lie:
Past sentry’s eye, past photo-sensor gate,
Past locks reset with bit-encoded key,
An awful Visitor would, in time, slip by,
To shock a man secure in his estate:
“This night thy soul shall be required of thee.”