MASK

 

I gaze through these holes made of plastic
I am silenced; there is no slit to speak past
My voice is absorbed; my tongue is a sponge
There is no breathing room
I am suffocating in HERE.

Yet…when I peel back my guard
Sweat raining from my efforts to keep it intact
         I am a DOG,
                   Panting,
                         Unintelligible,
                                    Reprimanded.
             Leashed. To. A. Post.

And I strain, the metal smearing red onto my flesh
And I yearn to break FREE.
But a muzzle is put back into place now
And I am smiling and laughing.

I get a treat when I pretend.

Reviews

[Legion]

I found this an interesting piece. We are, in the long term, all someone's dog. I found this line the best:

"Leashed. To. A. Post." Broken up as to really bring forth the realization of the horror of that. Also, could be thought of as these "posts" we put up to show our work as writers. We are leashed to them in some ways.

Anyway, good write. Keep it up. :)

[Alex Hutchinson]

Here dog strain free. The meaning in this poem could be absorbed in a variety of ways and that is a testament to how you wrote it. I really liked it.

[Jeb]

Welcome to the cafe. Good starting piece. I particularly liked: "I get a treat when I pretend." Good summation. Keep up the good work.