Glass Box

Stuck in my tiny box, surrounded by four glass walls,
Able to see the outside world yet unable to feel anything but the icy, cold hardness against my skin.
Tragic. I smell no fresh cut glass nor spring flowers,
Drowning in my own words, thoughts, dreams.

These words leak out into the world,
A poem, a passage, proof of my existance,
But they are nothing to ease the torrent of ideas drowning my mind.
And once again you break open my box,
unleash the waterfall of words,
Give me air and allow me to add a little life to the outside,
To free the souls and minds of other poets,
To allow them to break out, to speak freely
To save them from drowning in a little glass box.

— kitkat, Jul 02, 2010

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Arrow

15 years 11 months ago

I like the movement of this poem

from victim to tragic hero. I also like the image of the glass box, how well it captures a cage that might not be seen until you get very close to it. On a side note, although you didn't discuss it, the image of a glass box in a sea or river is evoked with words like drowning and waterfall. I imagine glass in these circumstances would break easily which reminds me of how change happens when a person hits rock bottom. My suggestion is that you look at your line breaks. Line 2 strikes me as too long; I'm not sure what's gained by its excessive length. In contrast, line 7 seems enhanced by the extra length; it adds to the idea of drowning in a torrent. I also wonder if line 6 might not work better as: A poem, a passage, proof of my existance - this phrase seems important and deserving of its own line Also, it reads more "leaky", i.e., drip, drip, drip. Even more so would be: a poem, a passage, proof of my existence. Enjoyed.