water seeping

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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



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.


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


The clock ticks and on her

Long, dirty fingers, she


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.


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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Pretty poem, if the word 'pretty' can be used to describe her situation. The last two lines freaked me out. :P
Btw, what I read in the news is that she was locked in a garage, not an attic, which had been converted into, and I quote, "a typical teenager's bedroom", completed with television, carpet, comfy bed, etc. And also apparently, she got to study... stuff, and the guy who kidnapped her helped her with it. According to her, he "was always nice" to her. But who knows. He has to have some kind of problem to kidnap a ten-year-old and lock her up in his garage, not 15 km from her own home. Think she was physically/sexually abused? *shrugs* Again, who knows? And now she's refusing to see her parents. The girl is messed up, but who wouldn't be after what happened to her?
I wasn't sure of the details of the situation myself. I just kind of converted it to suit my purposes. I saw the room actually on TV. The whole thing freaked me out.
I saw it on TV. But I didn't know she was having issues with her parents. What's that all about?
I'm bot so sure of that myself. The first day she got back, it was all hugs and kisses, with the girl asking things like "Is my toy car still there?" and the dad saying that he couldn't have bear to throw it away even if he tried, blah blah blah. Just... a happy family reunion thing. And then now she's refusing to see her parents, and nobody except certain authorities know where she's staying, not even the parents, who are, with good reasons, furious. Add in some stuff about how "we must not treat her as a victim... but as a sensible adult". Something like that.
She's about my age now. I guess, in a way, legally, she is an adult. I suppose it's harder because you lived with someone for ten years and suddenly you're back with your real parents...who probably feel like strangers now. It's a tough situation.
A wonderful written poem indeed.

I dunno where this happened perhaps it's the same thing. Because that happened in Germany. But I can understand why she doesn't want to see her parents. After such a long time, they're complete strangers to her. She has changed and they have changed.

Those are not the people she remembers as her parents. Because in her mind her parents act and look different. Now she has to understand that even though they're her parents that they've changed over the years and that's quite tough.
You know, if you'd been using a few more sylables per word, I'd have said you were channeling Shezar... very depressing.