Control Poem by Natasha Foster

Control



I'm trapped by three stone walls,
A locked iron door;
I hear him walking down the halls,
I'm buried beneath the ground floor.

Held in a place I do not know,
His unkind eyes cut through my soul.
I try not to let my fear show,
He tries to gain full control.

Living underground
Where none can hear me scream,
I'm told not to make a sound;
Even at night I'm not aloud to dream.

But in secret, I do dream
About a life away from this Hell-hole.
And as unlikely as it may seem,
I'll never stop fighting until I take control.

Thursday, June 5, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: conflict
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Susan Lacovara 05 June 2014

This sounds like terrifying existence...I pray it is only metaphorical. Stay strong.PEACE

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