Imprisoned

Imprisoned

A Poem by AllauraRose
"

Just yeah...

"
My mind wonders during school and I see a box.
I look closer, and I’m inside of it, yet I’m not.
I stroll over, and tap on the ice cold glass.
It echos, my body stays there, unfazed.
I punch the glass trying to wake myself up,
but I just stand there, unconscious, unable to move.
I punch the glass, until my knuckles scream in pain.

Footsteps, I hear heavy ones behind me, I turn around.
I see someone and scream for help, but they walk past me.
They look at me through the glass and begin to laugh.
Are they mocking me? I look at them closer, and
I realized I knew them, they were a person I trusted,
but instead they hurt me, continually, and remorselessly.

As I move closer, I stumble over something, and they turn.
They quickly look back and leave the room quietly.
Rage boils up inside of me. I feel energy corse through my veins.
I see a chair, I run over and grab it, and sprint towards me with
the chair in my hands, and use all my strength to hurl it at the box.

I see an explosion and glass flies all around the room.
I run over to see myself, unable to move, as if I’m paralyzed
They run in and notice the mess. I quickly grab myself.
I wake up, back in control, no longer on the outside

They come at me, but I dodge their attack. They trip,
and land in the glass, unable to get back up
I stand over them, and laugh, as they once did.

I scan the room for a door, my eyes land on a handle.
I sprint to my only chance at freedom.

I open the door, stepping outside, finally seeing the sunlight.

© 2018 AllauraRose


Author's Note

AllauraRose
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Added on September 8, 2018
Last Updated on September 9, 2018
Tags: Life, cage, trapped, tormented, hardships

Author

AllauraRose
AllauraRose

Raleigh, NC



About
A fifteen year old introvert who found a way to express herself. Some of my poems are okay and sometimes they are trash, just bare with me. I'm no Emily Dickinson, but I'm me. more..

Writing