Poet # One

The room was bright and sterile,
White as polished bone,
I quivered in my silence,
As I sat upon his throne.

I sensed the king behind me,
He gave a wicked smile,
"Welcome to my kingdom",
He declared, "its been a while."

My eyes grew large with panic,
As he selected from the shelf,
His favourite tool for torture,
To be imposed upon myself.

I grimaced as his eyes grew bright,
I knew the time had come,
He gave a laugh that chilled my soul,
And, hushed, began to hum.

The melody vibrated
Along my rigid spine,
It emphasised the heart beat
That was too loud to be mine.

And shortly after, silence,
That was followed by the drone,
Of quickly whirring metal,
As it's lowered into bone.

The pain was sharp, but as it dulled,
My vision became clear,
The dentist smiled and said "We're done,
If you'll just spit in here."

 

The End

162 comments about this poem Feed