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In the ocean I picture an easier world
Keep me locked in a cage
You once told me I wasn't good enough
How am I supposed to find the key
Around my cage you forced me to build bricks
Now no one can free my escape
Tears burn my tired eyes
A sight that
Cripples
All hope.
Standing
There in front of you
Yet only being able to look at it
And accept fate.
The longing
For something within reach
Yet all desire
Locked away.
The knowledge that
This was a long time coming
Yet the sign that was
Suddenly there
Catches you by surprise.
The sign that says
“Out of order”
On the vending machine.
I've never written a comedic poem before, but there's a first for everything right?
Thomas C Sep 14
Wandering through the days, searching for our fulfillment.
Upon the day we find the object that has no limits.
To describe the object would require the observer to see it’s entire life. Yet the object does not discriminate and absorbs time.
Slowly it fades from reality.
Until the memory confuses fantasy for reality.
Contoured Jun 26
My mind blisters,
From the thoughts it contains.
To formulate their verbal representation,
I'd be tasked to break the restraints.

But what an arduous task,
To release such material.
When the thoughts are masked by cobwebs,
Made from freshly cut steel.

Now don't find it unjust,
That my words stay contained.
I yearn to share with you my mind,
But my will has been drained.

To encounter dismissal,
With my newly-found hope,
Holds the excess thoughts hostage,
In bitter pursuit to cope.
My faulty thoughts have become rejects.
axel Jun 21
when you look into my eyes and search for me, just know you cannot find me for i am locked away in a room that has no key
Chiquita Jun 18
She was a bird in a cage
Locked from the evil lurking in the outside world.
All she wanted was to fly and see the world.
But she was kept locked in the cage.
Such beautiful feathers of a rare kind,
If it gets in the wrong hands,
Oh what bad could they do.
The owners kept her in safe and sound
But that's not what birdie wants
She wanted to fly and be happy 
Just like all other birds. 
But not everyone gets what they want 
Especially not a bird with a broken wings.
Her heart was in pieces ;
Some of it far from her reach.
She couldn't go find it so she held what she had left. 
Clutched to her chest she held it there. 
Sometimes it went numb.
Sometimes she could fell everything crash ,
For she felt like a useless bird in a cage.
Less of a bird more of a doll.
Stone cold; 
Sometimes she sang a sweet melancholy,  
A melody so sad and alone
But sometimes it was more of a dream.
She looked through the windows 
As she sang her bits and pieces 
In a rhythm,
Wondering if they'll be a day
She can fly safe in the sky. 
Till then she'll just sing all day long.
No matter much the owners took care of her, 
Daintly like a proceline glass valuing the feathers she possessed, 
Yet she couldn't stop to wonder where the pieces where gone.
She wanted to find it but she couldn't 
Cause she's just a bird in a cage.
JT Nelson Jun 5
I tried to walk
I tried to talk
I tried to fly
I tried to yell

But my feet were locked
But my legs were numb
But my tongue was still
And my lips were locked

Was I trapped in a dream?
A bad dream for sure
I mustered no emotion
Except fear for my future

My eyes couldn't blink
And couldn't move
My arms, fingers, toes
Also locked tight

And then as people stared
My heart began to glow
From the warmth of their smiles
Shining on me and my pedestal.
From a dream I had where I could figure out why I was unable to do anything except observe. I guess it would be considered a nightmare but I remember the feeling I had of joy knowing people were enjoying me like this.
Anastasia May 16
i think i kinda miss you
and you're missing from my life.
you're not missing from my mind
but you're missing from my nights.
i wish i could tell
the things i need to say
but i don't think i will
because i'm locked away.
i think you kinda miss me
i'm sad cause you're missing
i hope i get see you
and get to breath you
in.
i really miss him. i'm in a mental institution at the moment. i won't get to see him for a while. but i will.
jcl May 12
please open the door
who do i cry for
the golden door is close
do you not want the joy, the ecstasy
the rose bush is blooming, fully flowering
let me in, just unlock the door
my quiver is full, my bow taunt, where is your heart
https://www.wsj.com/articles/a-victorian-era-artists-studio-lists-in-chelsea-11557417641
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