Metal World
They took all my metal parts.
Which they said were dangerous.
And handed me a crayon.
Convicts, get to work!
Write away your lives.
And leave them here.
So you will all be reformed!
They commanded.
They demanded.
Until we were trained.
To act without urgency.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.