Trapped

I was trapped by the invisible walls of my faith.
Tricked by the idea that I could not escape
Chained up in a ghetto where my father died.
Fool of me thinking I would never get outside.
Imprisoned by my friend who knew nothing but war.
Shuddered at everything that had gone on before.
I will always be here in this dead end life of mine.
My heart turned back by a speed limit sign.
Yet now I see a way out of this concrete jail,
And a new way to soften a heart that has grown stale.
No longer cursing this place for its wealth,
No longer fighting with man or myself.
I understand now what it takes to get real,
If you want to stand up you got to learn how to kneel.
I surrender
My weapons are down at my feet,
Because we will never have freedom
When there is blood on the street.

Oksana
Sixth Grade

  From the author:  “The literary devices I used in my poem were rhyme so it would have a rhyme in your head.”