Mousetrap

A Poem by Lillian Jean

I feel like a mouse in a trap. A broken spine, incapable of moving. Just waiting for death. He was simply hungry. Simply hungry.. I too am hungry, hungry to be loved. I feel stuck, like I’m just waiting for the end. All I wanted was to be fed. For my heart to be full again. It’s been starving for too long. It’s slowly dying. It’s as if the blood pumps slower with eatery dying beat. Perhaps I’m no different or better than a rat. We both crave something. A desire to be full. An wHt do we get for that? We get sentenced to death. Not to our choosing, we were simply in search of something v that others found disruptive. We just get in the way because they don’t like being reminded about how cruel the world really is, and how disgusting they’ve made it out to be.