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Click hereBlackened eyes and darkened lips,
Bloody nails with midnight tips.
Sharpened fangs and snowy skin.
Little Gothic mannequin.
Hanging from your strings so tight.
Sleep all day, brought out at night.
Broken from your Master's Play.
Bleeding wounds are on display.
In a cage of his design:
Crystal glass and velvet lined.
No emotion in his eyes.
Little care for silent cries.
A pleasure to read. Added to my favourites.
Thanks for sharing this poem with us!
–AJ
(and I sure hope you think that is what you've written) almost work way better in formal verse than free verse. That might make sense, I suppose. Bondage has a strong formal component to it.
Anyway, I'm blathering. Very nice, tightly composed, poem. I enjoyed it.