The Trickling

March 4, 2011
It dripped like Chinese water torture.
Until it was steadily flowing.
The floor began to wash over and blur.
And the water kept on going

My sanity is bloody.
In fact, it's almost dead.
The prison... is flooding.
Right above my head.

I remember mother, once saying:
If you come across trouble, then come back home.
But solitary confinement is where I'm staying.
Because I'm forever locked inside this hole.

Reflecting on the past,
looking on my sin,
I don't deserve to go fast.
For I'm to die, In this stupid hole I'm in.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

MicroGiant This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 29, 2011 at 2:20 pm
"It dripped like Chinese water torture."  This is my favorite line in the poem.
randumfave replied...
Apr. 22, 2011 at 3:53 pm
hey thanks sam
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