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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
a poem, about people who feel oppressed and controlled, people such as royal children whom much is expected, or servants controlled by their masters. i got the inspiration from an indian drama, about a princess..

Submitted: August 08, 2009

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Submitted: August 08, 2009





I sit in a wasteland of oppression

Wrting and painting out my obsession


Freedom only in my mind itself

Imagination on each brain shelf


Feeling for the words to say

‘freedom is me everyday’

Hoping that someday, some way

It was


Choked and strangled i take my breaths

I have to resist from wishing death

Dreaming and thinking my only wealth


Invisible wires hold me

Cut me, bind me, restrain me


The straps feel tighter everyday

Everyday, until i imagine them away

And then i return to reality

The tight jailframe of reality


Heavy sand buries me

Poisonous gas fills me

A sweet torture outlives me

As i try to live being me


Every second is a dieing moment

And every moment is a painful death

And then reincarnated, the cycle begins

And never ends again


On pillows and riches i sit

Behind polished palace walls

All alone


With no one to rescue me

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