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Cage of Words

See me peering through the letters
That are swarming down this page.
See me struggle in the fetters
Of my Muse’s authored cage:
‘O’s are manacles, and ‘T’
The cross-bar braced by double-‘V’;
‘C’s are chains linked to a ‘Q’
Which is the keyless lock I drew;
‘L’s are bars – ‘D’ one great floor;
‘X’ joins the walls without a door;
Periods are scattered dust;
Commas, colons – flakes of rust;
Exclamation marks are blades
Upon which my ink is made;
‘F’s the quill wherewith I write
These prison walls of endless height.
Scrawling each lumpy-lettered line,
Chanting the verses as I climb,
Knowing that each new word I stack
Is just another word I lack.
For no matter where I would flee,
I take this cage of words with me.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
What I am most worried about is the fact that I enjoyed writing this poem so much, I may not be able to see its glaring flaws. XD Does it make sense? I feel like the punctuation is off . . .
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

So glad you enjoyed it! I really fee like this poem applies to a lot of writers who while they find release in their work, also discover that without words, they are lost. Something I, at least, discovered recently when I was going through a traumatic experience and had nothing to write on: it almost drove me insane, and until that moment when I could sit down and write, I couldn't think straight. As soon as the words began, they set me free. It is a strange and necessary cage.
~

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's true aim." Oscar Wilde

author comment

I adore the imagery of swarming down this page , these words, they are locked within you, what a very unique poem, you seem to be rocking Neopoet and I for one am loving it! Thought provoking, your muse has feathers, so I may presume she/he is an angel too which is awesome. Although I think of a bird too.

Thank you...Teddy

Then if my muse is an angel, she is a dark one, though I really do love the idea of feathers . . . hmmmm, you have woken her. This might be a poem. Thanks! :D
~

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's true aim." Oscar Wilde

author comment
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