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Broken, the planks have fallen. Useless, the sail is plunging. Asleep, the sailor arrives. Comfortable, it is —the sand— It doesn't wake him up or send him back. A desert island is a good place for a new start. But the island is not desert— people have lived there for years, decades— generations. They tie him to a tree, they slap his face awake, until his mouth lets out a shy, almost silent greeting: "Hi, I'm the new child" His face is red, from slaps and embarrassment. He wishes they let him go, he wishes they turn to something else— but they don't. Night falls, they go to sleep. They are tired—he is tied. Below the quiet stars, when he almost had fallen asleep, a girl approaches to help him. "Hi! I'm sorry for what they did", she says. "They just love to be superior to strangers" —her face filled with disappointment— "You know, they are humans— they love to do that. By the way, my name's Emily" When she stops talking, he is not tied anymore. Emily extended her hand— "Mine is John", he says as he takes her hand. "Well, John— this is the warmest welcome you'll get"
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Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 2:40 PM UTC
Tied and Untied (1)
Broken, the planks have fallen. Useless, the sail is plunging. Asleep, the sailor arrives. Comfortable, it is —the sand— It doesn't wake him up or send him back. A desert island is a good place for a new start. But the island is not desert— people have lived there for years, decades— generations. They tie him to a tree, they slap his face awake, until his mouth lets out a shy, almost silent greeting: "Hi, I'm the new child" His face is red, from slaps and embarrassment. He wishes they let him go, he wishes they turn to something else— but they don't. Night falls, they go to sleep. They are tired—he is tied. Below the quiet stars, when he almost had fallen asleep, a girl approaches to help him. "Hi! I'm sorry for what they did", she says. "They just love to be superior to strangers" —her face filled with disappointment— "You know, they are humans— they love to do that. By the way, my name's Emily" When she stops talking, he is not tied anymore. Emily extended her hand— "Mine is John", he says as he takes her hand. "Well, John— this is the warmest welcome you'll get"
I kinda wanted to get some things off my chest about these "welcomes". First poem in the three-part cycle "Tied and Untied" ------------ Copyright: Shattentraumer, 2026. Licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/). Original: https://hellopoetry.com/poems/5266588/tied-and-untied-1
#arrival#belonging#newcomer#outsider#welcome#discrimination#newstart
Shattentraumer
Written by
Shattentraumer
Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 2:40 PM UTC
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