Lock Box

Here I am, an inanimate safe.

With eyes that see and ears that hear,

I sit, unable to communicate.

I want, no, beg to have the chance

To speak.

To speak of the treasures within

My sturdy frame.

Treasures that you know exist

Yet are unwilling to seek.

I implore you to unlock me,

Come and be amazed.

But the key has been lost in

Translation.

Oh, woe is me.

Unable to talk while knowing

The location of the key.

 

 

Reviews

[Laura Maidah]

This poem has a fixed, abstract feel to it that really works. The "safe" and "-cate" did not flow for me. It was total discord in the harmony of the second and fourth line. It's rather eloquent. It has no aural motif to speak of, but maybe that was purposed.
I think you need to use more imagery. Let me quote Mary Oliver, "The language of the poem is the language of particulars. Without it poetry might still be wise, but it would surely be pallid. And thin. It is the detailed, sensory language incorporating images that gives the poem dash and tenderness. And authenticity... The world is full of sensory detail. The poem needs this sensory detail also.