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Dec 2018
Deny me not of that-                                                            ­                                                                 ­                   Which we all are entitled.                                                        ­                                                                 ­                         Growth requires so much.                                                            ­                                                                 ­                     Depending on the creature;                                                        ­                                                                 ­                     Plants: sunlight, carbon dioxide, minerals, water.                                                           ­                                       A growing person: love (a little at least), pain (what does it hurt to have some?),                                    Privacy.              ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                      Yet, that-                                                            ­                                                                 ­                                                       You deny me repetitively.

No room for self growth.                                                          ­                                                                 ­                         To listen to my own thoughts.                                                        ­                                                                 ­                 Not even a chance to recollect-                                                       ­                                                                 ­                Or counsel myself.                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                       A growing child am I                                                                ­                                                                 ­                             With the least opportunity to be by myself.                                                          ­                                                          

A dictator are you.                                                             ­                                                                 ­                  Breathe, eat, talk up those people.                                                          ­                                                                 ­     Decisions, commands you enforce.                                                         ­                                                                 ­    No choice have I but to follow.                                                          ­                                                                 ­                 Free, I wish to be but                                                              ­                                                                 ­                             Chained I remain. A slave-                                                           ­                                                                 ­                      Your captive, a hopeless soul-                                                            ­                                                                 ­             Waiting to be freed.                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                  Restlessness and anxiety eat,                                                             ­                                                                 ­            Peck, gnaw away at what sanity I have left.                                                            ­                                                                 ­     

What humanity I had left-                                                            ­                                                                 ­                     Has begun to fade. My soul-                                                            ­                                                                 ­       Drifts away to the furthest-                                                        ­                                                                 ­                       Dark abyss. My body, this corpse,                                                          ­                                                                 ­       Will stay as a reminder of what you have done                                                             ­                                          And the error of your ways.
Written by
Kyla Plummer  14/F/Jamaica
(14/F/Jamaica)   
555
 
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