The small print on the wall

You built a den, and I rented it for some time,

and I hung a picture that I liked on a strip;
as I looked at it suddenly the wall felt mine,
yet I knew the truth - rights of use and ownership.

 

The print was mine, and what lay behind the print

was never mine, but it held the string and it pegged
something dear; and so the wall, inch by inch,
moved closer to me through the fragile connect.

 

You asked for it in due course, the lease was up

so I took the picture off the wall and out I came;
but all day long all I could see was this smudged

faint dark line on the paint rubbed by the frame.