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NicJoelLim Feb 2012
******.
****** ******.
Thousands of captives.
Trapped. Like I. Bound-

To seats.
3 Feet apart.
By invisible chains.
Forced to confess. Faced with stress.
Emotional, mental, maybe physical.
Forced to against will.
Faced with time.
The sounds-

Scratching.
Painful etching.
Carving into ivory sheets.
Painful work, thy fingers die
But all know it's either that or I.
Sweeping scraps.
Weeping rags.
Off the desk.
"THUD"-

Torture
Sickening torture.
Stuck, can do no longer.
Take a minute's break.
All Captors stare.
As if saying.
"Beware"
Captors-

In this
small room.
Captors, Aisles they strut.
Awaiting a ****, list in hand.
Should anyone defy.
Should anyone lie.
Captors shall.
destroy lives.
with that pen.
in hand.
One-

Comrade
Forth thee.
Silent protest.
A slip of paper in hand's rest.
Some reference. Glances.
Captor passes.
Gone. Forever Gone.
I've seen him, last.
sent on-

Out.
Possibly for torture.
To spill his guts and to confess.
Accomplices, if any.
None at best.

Countdown-
****** clock moves slow.
As if it was tuned back by purpose.
All watching.
Gaze fixed;
hope-
curse-

5 minutes to go.
The race begins. Last to finish.
Never ever had a good end.
Thy weapon in hand.
Stronger than sword.
Carve words.
****-

"STOP"
Presiding captor shouts.
Time flies when you're having fun.
Time flies when you want to run.
All stop as if en cue.
Inspection time.
Is due-

Collection.
Passing of works. Up forth rows.
But there I am. Screaming.
**** **** ****.
Life is up.
There goes.
My future-

Elated faces.
All round.
For they now longer bound.
To their chairs.
Smiles fill the air.
"Run along".
Captors declare.

All flee.
but I stood there
Thinking.

Mom I'm sorry. I'm getting an F.
But I knew I did my best.
I might just pass this.
****** test.
It's really difficult to put exact words into prose. I find it much easier to use a metaphor and a poem instead. As this poem unravels I really hope readers can feel the anguish I'm trying to bring across. I also tend to add a stylish visual to my poem in this case to depict structureness and the rigidity of tests. Hope you like it. :)
NicJoelLim Feb 2012
Raindrops striking the window pane
I need to wipe them off...
I try,
BUT, they keep gushing
Blocking sight, the scene, efforts in vain
Bluring everything, obscuring everything
WAIT
Is it just me?
Then I realise - I'm crying
.
That window will break, someday, some time...
Shall that crack in that window..
"Snap!"
everything shall spill
Rain will flood in, and it's more than my eyes they will fill
Drenching everthing
Someone needs to wipe them away!
I'll try. I'll TRY. I'LL TRY.
Why isn't anyone helping me?
Mum, why do you stray?
.
Raindrops are falling,
Raindrops getting desperate, falling harder.
No one understands why they are, not even my Mother
They etch and carve at my window pains. Slowly..... eventually..... it will end in drains
Slowly.
Eventually.
One day.
.
Hallucinations. More carving, from cheeks to arms
Raindrops turn red.
No longer in drips, more of streams and river beds
Down the clear glass, seemingly steady and seemingly smooth
They keep waking me up in the middle of the night
I can't sleep. On my bed I flop.
That familar tune - monotonomous, dreadful:

"Drip, Drip, Drip, Drop."

Do you have them window pains?
One of the poems I write when I'm deep in my thoughts and emotions. Such poems, I feel, really capture the moment - to put wordless emotions into poems. Intend alot of sorrow and helplessness in this piece. Really hope that my readers will be able to feel the poem - my emotions :).

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