Cold metal,
fused together.
Hinges hold an opening.
But it does not answer to you.
The master,
the hand that which holds the key,
You mustn’t fear,
I keep you safe within here.
Its metal surrounds you, yes.
But for your safety.
I hold none against their will.
Be free to leave—
Wait. Not yet.
You are safer in there.
Do not chance fate,
for you are special to me.
As I said I hold none against their will.
Come and go as you please,
but just
Not
Yet.
-
Author:
M.E.M. (
Offline) - Published: December 7th, 2017 08:26
- Comment from author about the poem: Object-based poem
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 28
Offline)
Comments3
Great write
Diabolical and chilling write, M.E.M.!
Love your poem. How many times have we been told by parents, teachers, people in power, governments: It's for your own good. Is it really?
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