Plastic Room

Lying,

Backing up

Against the wall

Because the world

No longer

Makes sense.

I loathe

These four walls,

Whether it is

I or them

Who are fighting

And hindering.

Smashing windows,

Crawling through

The broken glass

To escape,

Just to be

Blocked by bars.

I want out!

Out of this world,

That seems to

Only care for

The beautiful

And charming.

Considering flying,

To see if the grass

Is really greener

On the other side,

But I lack the wings

To even try.

People preach

About what I

Should be

To please them,

To get far

In a plastic world.

Telling me that

I think too much,

That I should

Walk and talk

Like them

And fade away.

I cannot do

As they say,

Whether it is fear

Or something

Instinctive

Preventing me from

Turning to plastic.

By Laura Jenkins
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