Daphne in the wood (bromantic) wrote,
Daphne in the wood
bromantic

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Title - The child prisoner
Format - poem
Based on? - This is loosely based on a true story that just happened four, five days ago about a girl who had been kidnapped and locked into an attic for ten years. When I heard about that, I knew I needed to write this poem. 

The Child Prisoner

 

Daybreak.

She knew it was dawn

She couldn’t see the rays

That filter the blue, but

She knew.

It was daybreak.

She gets up from her bed,

Puts on her gown,

Picks up her little red book

And a pen.

She scribbles little drawings

Of flowers and birds.

Sometimes she writes those

Little sentences and thoughts

That drift through.

Sometimes, she writes nothing,

No thoughts, no words,

No pretty flowers at the edge

Of her red book.

She watches the clock

In her room, patient,

Knowing when it will strike,

Precise, cold hands

Moving too fast and slow

At the same time.

Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll

Ever catch up to those

Hands ticking to the beat

 Of her heart.

Sometimes, she wonders if she

Can afford to be slower.

A few more seconds

Before the strike.

Noon.

She is hungry, but she can wait.

Her cooker is working.

Rice again today.

She will have rice tomorrow.

And day after.

And the day after that.

She is hungry at the thought,

But when she picks up her

Spoon, she knows she would be

Full.

The clock ticks and on her

Long, dirty fingers, she

Counts.

One, two, three, four.

She loses count, but she starts again.

One, two, three, four.

The clock doesn’t listen to her voice,

But she can imagine.

Evening.

She slips her gown off and hears

The drumming of footsteps

Like a war drum.

She thinks that deep, deep inside

She should be scared.

She should be hiding.

But she waits as the door is

Slowly pushed open and the evening

Dusk enters the room

Like a stranger.

And she meets his eyes

And she counts the seconds.

One, two, three, four…

 

The clock doesn’t hear voices or screams


I think this is a poem I would always like if the reality of her situation didn't scare me senseless.
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  • 10 comments

  • (no subject)

    My parents have been back for what, a day? And they have succeeded in making me feel terrible. Now everything is making me feel terrible.

  • (no subject)

    Me at Uni = Ahiru at Ballet EXCEPT I'M WORSE. Oh depression how I have not missed you.

  • The Adventures of Timmy and her Dick-headed Teachers

    Head Teacher: Kay you're in charge of the French board. Me: ... but I have nothing to do with the French department. Head Teacher: Tough. HAVE IT…