Paige’s Pages: A Literary Work #4

Throwback Thursday! (It’s not Thursday.) Here’s a poem I wrote in high school.

 

Those of Our Kind

Past the red-striped tents, you’ll see
A place of wonder, dazzling
Where the wretch’d alone roam free.

“Have a look!” he shouts to me
“Most truly horrifying!”
Past the red-striped tents, you’ll see.

Madmen grin so easily
Behind masks they are hiding
Where the wretch’d alone roam free.

On display, the world will see
The locked and barely living.
Past the red-striped tents, you’ll see.

In cages, they seem to be
Mocked and forever hurting
Where the wretch’d alone roam free.

This was never meant to be.
Our hearts are black and burning.
Past the red-striped tents, you’ll see
Where the wretch’d alone roam free.

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Paige’s Pages: A Literary Work #2

Wake Up

Wake up, Master.

I’ve been sitting at the end of the bed

waiting for you to

 

wake up.

It’s 4 a.m. Time to take me outside.

Green carpet is not grass.

I remembered to

 

wake up, Master.

It’s time to roll out of bed.

You can get clean

while I search for cold crunchy bacon

in the garbage can

 

you wake up, Master?

It’s time to eat your breakfast.

My empty bowl is on the floor

still from a week ago.

Not today, you’re late again.

I bark and I yell and you never

 

wake up.

It’s time to leave for work. I’ll watch you go

in that machine that smells like hospitals.

Don’t worry, I’ll protect

the house while you

 

wake up, Master.

It’s time for me to nap a while too, dreaming of

when I can leap up, lick your face,

but I forgot: no jumping when you

 

wake up.

It’s time for you to come home so I can

drop my lamb at your feet, the one you bought me once you

 

wake up, Master.

It’s time to pat my head and,

when you do, that’s all I’ll need.

 

But until then, I’m still sitting here,

waiting for you to open your eyes,

wake up,

and see my smiling face.