Tower of the doomed

It stood there,  he stood there pointing out the wonders
Of the prison block
I grant you the facade was marginally prettier
But it was shiny new
Unloved,  unlived in and the nearest thing to an ivory tower prison
So cardboard cutout she expected
The walls to shake in protest if she spoke
A false village all manmade and uniform
Rat run for the rat race
And the bedrooms are on the third floor the best is in the attic
Like bloody rapunzel without the hair she muttered
No ladder just a cardboard prison
She sees his excitement at lording it with the big
House,  car and I have arrived puffiness
Shuddered and felt the walls close in
If this was her prison she’d suffocate inside a week
Entombed in her box like an obelisk to someone else
He runs along describing the carpets and shades of beige
That can be used to make it look appetising
Like a cookie with no flavour
She can even hear the voice saying you’re trapped
In the labyrinthine tunnels forever
Then she makes her escape from the tower
And wonders what she is doing.
How she even got here

Ailsa
©AilsaCawleyPoetry 2016

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Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️

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