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Gilded Cage
Folded birds hang still in the air,
captured in flight.
Flowers bloom on dying bushes, bramble tears their petals.
A map, a world, stuck on the walls of this prison, a taunt.
Lights hanging, falling, dimming, joining the flames put out.
Color printed, not grown.
Creativity artificial, manufactured
Laughter echoes, its source long lost
Stolen by hallways,
“hurry , shuffle along”.
Drawings hanging, uniform.
A prompt, not heart.
A mask.
Decorating the destroyer
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This piece is about my experience observing the slow destruction of individuality and creativity that the school system prioritizes away in favor of conformity.