Trapped underneath a wooden houseA Poem by Lina
The point of this poem is for you to find in it what you want to find. You make your own analysis, and you get to your own conclusion.
Trapped underneath a wooden house
with solid pens and crafts and stones
nothing else seems to be appearing, nothing to visualise, nothing to drown out the sound
The sound isn't too bad, just yelling... and screaming, no shouting or pouting
Silence finally draws near and the grey caves are empty and haunted
Ghosts don't exist, they aren't real and so they don't matter, nothing matters
which makes matters worse.
Finally a soul is washed up and broken, it's wet and wild and drives a wagon
it plays, it stays, it does what it does
and that's the thing that defines us all...
it is what it is, and we are what we are.
© 2011 Lina
Amman, -, Jordan
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