My Glass Prison

by .x.PorteR.x.   Nov 13, 2004

My hand press up upon the glass
Cold upon my fingertips.
The mist rising up the clear walls…
I stare out, watching…
Staring out…
Out of my glass prison.

Trapped inside this hole like hell
Just for being different.
Just for thinking people look better…
When they’re dead.
Just for being young and hopeless -
Abused, and left for nothing…

Taking my anger out on another -
Strangling him till he didn’t breath…
‘Til he was dead.
A manic smile across my face,
I watch as they sealed the scene…
My fingerprints on his neck.

So obviously guilty.

They sent me here
To hell.
Where I could be ‘helped’
Where I could ‘get better’.
Where I could be manipulated
Into doing what they wanted.
Where I could be tortured for so long
I screamed myself to sleep.

I lived here,
And I’d die here -
In my glass prison.


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Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago

    by Andrea

    i really love this one! keep it up!

  • 17 years ago

    by paperdoll

    alright, you know a poem's gotten to you when you've been reading depressing pieces for hours on end and the imagery and phrasing of a poet's "glass prison" has stuck in your head... i thought it was pretty good. apart from some niggly gramtical bits, i'm suprised no one has commented on this already.

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