I feel trapped like a rodent
outside the cage,
Being on the other side of the bars feels out of place.
Rob me of my freedom, shackle me in flight,
Rob me of my sense of being, greet me with a ball and chain,
And you call me vain!
You, playing the part of the sadist insane,
Getting off on using me, abusing me…
Accusing me of this and that, mostly that.
Throw me around like a rabbit you pulled out of a hat.
What is a man to do wandering around like a bat?
A broken sonar not worth a damn.
Unable to find my way, like signal smoke I begin to fade.
You’re enjoying this aren’t you?
You fulfill your fantasies through my eyes,
A masochist in disguise put me behind the iron curtain,
The cold of the steel playing tag with my heart.
I spread my wings and protrude the walls of this black hole.
Off these wings I discharge the sins,
A bittersweet dissolution, I’m granted absolution but, for what?
Your transgressions and infractions,
Your slips and falls?
How long did you plan to let me drift the halls?
You want me in the cage because it makes you feel safe,
A barrier between you and I.
Your finger on the trigger and a lunatic by your side,
Purposely serving without a purpose, a brute of your design.
My inner self long gone I refer to the paintings on the wall,
Reminding myself of the better…warmer…then…
Like a season past and memories that vanish with weather,
This schism purging the hatred that brought us together.
Abolished freedom, a faint light imprisoned forever and ever.
Now a wounded soldier I return to the rust and the cold,
I am no longer the captain of my soul,
I am and always will be, lost in the fold.
the tragic splintered fragments of the self arrange themselves in heartrending array through the dusky battlefield of your poem~ here the silent heart still screams and the rusted mind weeps~ mourning the innocence before the sound of bullets touched the sky and ripped the air to pieces like elemental pockets of pain displaced~ powerful and deeply moving writing~
you've done it again flaw....there is so much to this i can't even begin to start...
i've been there and it does not feel good....however, probably a little more brutal in your shoes. scary.....and very sad because it technically speaks the truth of how "power" can be so dangerous.....good work....
ahhh to be subdued....though it feels like one does not suffer out of the numbing effect
something triggers it to stir
you've expressed this so very intensely
it made me remember when i was on that side of the coin
it made me remember how my need for vengence turned me into this type of woman as well
the cycle never ends....somehow
we are played with
we play with another
tossed away
who really stays?
this triggered so much in me
you have a great talent.
Seems there is a lot of anger and discord in the writing. The strength here lies in your rythm and your use of few syllables in each line. It's as if your thoughts are so intense, and furious that the beginning of the poem does indeed sound like a rap. I think it all changes with the line
"How long did you plan to let me drift the halls".
After this line you begin to look inwardly and calmly reflect on the reason why you are trapped.
Wonderfully intelligent and deep, as always. Keep them coming.
The conflict of self arises when we forget ourselves in the process of communing with others. I'm all for every emotional aspect of the entanglements of being involved with others, but I think it's important to never lose sight of yourself. Your words evoke conflict within the mind of the reader, as we are able to feel your own internal conflict.
The amazing thing is as I started reading this...and don't get me wrong because it was cool as hell, the tune to You Gotta Lose Yourself by Eminem started playing in my head. Your staccato lines really had a punch in this like it was Hip Hop, at least that was the rythym I got into while reading it. Gave me the chills really. When I got to the line, "you're enjoying this aren't you" it kind of snapped me out my trance a little and took me surprise like the question was meant for me. Weird experience reading this one. I really liked it.
The name is Ivan - I'm 31. I am originally from Bosnia and Herzegovina. I left my country in 94 because of the civil war. After emigrating, my family lived in France for 2 years before coming to Canad.. more..