Ambjr
Poem Published
15th Mar 2025 11:06am
15th Mar 2025 11:06am
the box
a battered elm box with rusted hinges
corners worn from years of use
latches that require a specific touch
deep gouges scar its surface
betrayin the chaos it holds
its weight shifts unpredictably
light enough to balance on fingertips
then breakin shoulders with its burden
an object that breathes in shadows
expandin slightly with every heartbeat
durin quiet hours it whispers in C minor
the same broken chord repeatin til dawn
the lid stubbornly resists
til struck at the upper left edge
a sharp blow that momentarily...
corners worn from years of use
latches that require a specific touch
deep gouges scar its surface
betrayin the chaos it holds
its weight shifts unpredictably
light enough to balance on fingertips
then breakin shoulders with its burden
an object that breathes in shadows
expandin slightly with every heartbeat
durin quiet hours it whispers in C minor
the same broken chord repeatin til dawn
the lid stubbornly resists
til struck at the upper left edge
a sharp blow that momentarily...
#FeelingTrapped
#StreamOfConsciousness
89 reads
5 Comments
Ambjr
Poem Published
15th Mar 2025 11:06am
15th Mar 2025 11:06am
the box
a battered elm box with rusted hinges
corners worn from years of use
latches that require a specific touch
deep gouges scar its surface
betrayin the chaos it holds
its weight shifts unpredictably
light enough to balance on fingertips
then breakin shoulders with its burden
an object that breathes in shadows
expandin slightly with every heartbeat
durin quiet hours it whispers in C minor
the same broken chord repeatin til dawn
the lid stubbornly resists
til struck at the upper left edge
a sharp blow that momentarily...
corners worn from years of use
latches that require a specific touch
deep gouges scar its surface
betrayin the chaos it holds
its weight shifts unpredictably
light enough to balance on fingertips
then breakin shoulders with its burden
an object that breathes in shadows
expandin slightly with every heartbeat
durin quiet hours it whispers in C minor
the same broken chord repeatin til dawn
the lid stubbornly resists
til struck at the upper left edge
a sharp blow that momentarily...
#FeelingTrapped
#StreamOfConsciousness
89 reads
5 Comments
AaronBraveHeart
Poem Published
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
Freedom is Back
The waves are hitting seaside rocks
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
#happiness
#courage
#freedom
#escape
#FeelingTrapped
576 reads
17 Comments
AaronBraveHeart
Poem Published
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
Freedom is Back
The waves are hitting seaside rocks
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
#happiness
#courage
#freedom
#escape
#FeelingTrapped
576 reads
17 Comments
AaronBraveHeart
Poem Published
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
Freedom is Back
The waves are hitting seaside rocks
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
#happiness
#courage
#freedom
#escape
#FeelingTrapped
576 reads
17 Comments
AaronBraveHeart
Poem Published
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
Freedom is Back
The waves are hitting seaside rocks
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
#happiness
#courage
#freedom
#escape
#FeelingTrapped
576 reads
17 Comments
AaronBraveHeart
Poem Published
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
21st Jul 2022 12:40pm
Freedom is Back
The waves are hitting seaside rocks
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
and my vacation's almost over.
I'm trying to heal with salty drops,
carried by the wind's exposure.
Are they adventurers on airy rafts,
or are they just my desperate tears?
Deep inside, I imagine scenery of crafts,
that inspire for a living but who really hears?
In the bus I'm heading to my home,
to slavery of irradiation tasteless,
I am desperate to escape but feel alone;
and this is how I'm stuck yet restless.
Does this job provide a safe tomorrow?
As this is why I never...
#happiness
#courage
#freedom
#escape
#FeelingTrapped
576 reads
17 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
13th Jan 2022 3:15pm
13th Jan 2022 3:15pm
Is it a poisoned well?
How many raising the umbrella,
before the thunder comes.
Weather men they turn and turn about,
not hear psychosis rage and needs to spout
and sanity is overwhelmed
easy platitudes of pros, a vain novella
when lightening cracks, the plain hum-drum
crust contain, lost stanzas a cappella.
I ask you time and time again
the discourse come to heal the cracking grout
to hold the pen and stab in rage
is it just a placebo, a falsehood walk the bridge of terror
the cold resolve of boiling blood, play that golden lyre. ...
before the thunder comes.
Weather men they turn and turn about,
not hear psychosis rage and needs to spout
and sanity is overwhelmed
easy platitudes of pros, a vain novella
when lightening cracks, the plain hum-drum
crust contain, lost stanzas a cappella.
I ask you time and time again
the discourse come to heal the cracking grout
to hold the pen and stab in rage
is it just a placebo, a falsehood walk the bridge of terror
the cold resolve of boiling blood, play that golden lyre. ...
#LifeAsAWriter
#MentalHealth
#WritingPoetry #FeelingTrapped
#WritingPoetry #FeelingTrapped
357 reads
0 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
13th Jan 2022 3:15pm
13th Jan 2022 3:15pm
Is it a poisoned well?
How many raising the umbrella,
before the thunder comes.
Weather men they turn and turn about,
not hear psychosis rage and needs to spout
and sanity is overwhelmed
easy platitudes of pros, a vain novella
when lightening cracks, the plain hum-drum
crust contain, lost stanzas a cappella.
I ask you time and time again
the discourse come to heal the cracking grout
to hold the pen and stab in rage
is it just a placebo, a falsehood walk the bridge of terror
the cold resolve of boiling blood, play that golden lyre. ...
before the thunder comes.
Weather men they turn and turn about,
not hear psychosis rage and needs to spout
and sanity is overwhelmed
easy platitudes of pros, a vain novella
when lightening cracks, the plain hum-drum
crust contain, lost stanzas a cappella.
I ask you time and time again
the discourse come to heal the cracking grout
to hold the pen and stab in rage
is it just a placebo, a falsehood walk the bridge of terror
the cold resolve of boiling blood, play that golden lyre. ...
#LifeAsAWriter
#MentalHealth
#WritingPoetry #FeelingTrapped
#WritingPoetry #FeelingTrapped
357 reads
0 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
13th Jan 2022 3:15pm
13th Jan 2022 3:15pm
Is it a poisoned well?
How many raising the umbrella,
before the thunder comes.
Weather men they turn and turn about,
not hear psychosis rage and needs to spout
and sanity is overwhelmed
easy platitudes of pros, a vain novella
when lightening cracks, the plain hum-drum
crust contain, lost stanzas a cappella.
I ask you time and time again
the discourse come to heal the cracking grout
to hold the pen and stab in rage
is it just a placebo, a falsehood walk the bridge of terror
the cold resolve of boiling blood, play that golden lyre. ...
before the thunder comes.
Weather men they turn and turn about,
not hear psychosis rage and needs to spout
and sanity is overwhelmed
easy platitudes of pros, a vain novella
when lightening cracks, the plain hum-drum
crust contain, lost stanzas a cappella.
I ask you time and time again
the discourse come to heal the cracking grout
to hold the pen and stab in rage
is it just a placebo, a falsehood walk the bridge of terror
the cold resolve of boiling blood, play that golden lyre. ...
#LifeAsAWriter
#MentalHealth
#WritingPoetry #FeelingTrapped
#WritingPoetry #FeelingTrapped
357 reads
0 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
13th Jan 2022 3:15pm
13th Jan 2022 3:15pm
Is it a poisoned well?
How many raising the umbrella,
before the thunder comes.
Weather men they turn and turn about,
not hear psychosis rage and needs to spout
and sanity is overwhelmed
easy platitudes of pros, a vain novella
when lightening cracks, the plain hum-drum
crust contain, lost stanzas a cappella.
I ask you time and time again
the discourse come to heal the cracking grout
to hold the pen and stab in rage
is it just a placebo, a falsehood walk the bridge of terror
the cold resolve of boiling blood, play that golden lyre. ...
before the thunder comes.
Weather men they turn and turn about,
not hear psychosis rage and needs to spout
and sanity is overwhelmed
easy platitudes of pros, a vain novella
when lightening cracks, the plain hum-drum
crust contain, lost stanzas a cappella.
I ask you time and time again
the discourse come to heal the cracking grout
to hold the pen and stab in rage
is it just a placebo, a falsehood walk the bridge of terror
the cold resolve of boiling blood, play that golden lyre. ...
#LifeAsAWriter
#MentalHealth
#WritingPoetry #FeelingTrapped
#WritingPoetry #FeelingTrapped
357 reads
0 Comments
Abracadabra
Poem Published
25th Sep 2023 6:15pm
25th Sep 2023 6:15pm
No Mercy
The darkest demons
pay no mind to your fears
One night they will rush
screaming in your ears
You think you're safely
tucked up in bed
but the demons are waiting
inside your head
You think you've grown wise
to the traps that they've set
but the demons don't stop
and they ain't started yet
They'll chase you forever
for as long as you live
to exact their revenge
for all the bad things you did
Death bears no rescue
across the divide
your God will not save you
on the other side ...
pay no mind to your fears
One night they will rush
screaming in your ears
You think you're safely
tucked up in bed
but the demons are waiting
inside your head
You think you've grown wise
to the traps that they've set
but the demons don't stop
and they ain't started yet
They'll chase you forever
for as long as you live
to exact their revenge
for all the bad things you did
Death bears no rescue
across the divide
your God will not save you
on the other side ...
#dark
#unicorns
#FeelingTrapped
225 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Feeling Trapped Published by Members Recently Online
