Trapped
Dark room, pitch black,
Can’t see a damn thing as a matter of fact,
No walls to feel, where am I?
It’s frigid, chilling to the bone,
Nothing is visible at all,
My voice muted, my thoughts echo,
A scream, where did it come from,
It sounded like me…
Cement floor boxing in the forever night,
A moonlit path is all I ask for,
Clothes to cover my bare skin maybe,
Lend me anything to stop this horror film,
Earmuffs to block the sorrow filled voice,
So deafening it has melded me to this place,
Immobile, inactive, incapable of playing this game,
I never heard silent screaming that sounded so loud.
Copyright © Frank Malfi | Year Posted 2006
|