tagNon-Erotic PoetryPicture of a Prison Cell

Picture of a Prison Cell

byUnderYourSpell©

There's ghosties coming from the cigarettes
see them all caspian and dance across the room
filtering through the heavy metal bars to escape
like a picture show that is going too slow.
My Momma said there'd soon be a load of trouble
she was always so damn right, never been wrong.

Now I'm not wanting you to be getting me wrong,
Have you brought me any of those cigarettes?
It wasn't me who wanted to make all this trouble
Momma she would have that photography room,
I've always been what you might call a bit slow
But there come times you just got to escape.

Up on the hills loving with Bobby is my escape
don't you try to tell me were doing anything wrong
Bobby was good at taking it really nice and slow
afterwards we'd share us a few cigarettes.
When it got colder we started to use my room
Guess that's what they call getting into trouble.

I've got a little brother, now he's the trouble
sneaking round the house when we had no escape
should have known to stay out of his sisters room
if anyone it was always him in the wrong
wouldn't leave when we offered cigarettes.
left there at a run, from the bed we were too slow.

Bobby said not to worry got to take it slow
we could sort it so there'd be no more trouble
He'd got just the thing some herbal cigarettes,
sure made me feel good like a real escape,
for us, not for my brother he did us wrong,
So we lay and planned everything in my room.

The easy part was luring him to the darkroom
took ages to stop wriggling that was the trouble
and when he went down he squashed my cigarettes!
Mamma found the photo before we could escape,
couldn't she see pictures of naked folks was wrong?
So you started asking me questions in this room.

Yes sir it was wrong for him to cause this trouble,
in this room time goes much too slow, where's Bobby?
He's gone?! Did he escape to go get my cigarettes?

Poetry Survivor
Sestina Trigger 13

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