Castle

by Abigail Hogewood, age 12
Abigail Hogewood is twelve years old and she will attend the school of Westland in September. No she is not insane, and yes she is a social outcast. (Though some would disagree with the first answer.) She should thank her mother and father for not sending her to a therapist after reading this poem. And her sister for providing the misery which inspired such an amazing piece of art. She would also like to thank her dog, Luna, and her other two, daisy and daisy. And she would like to note that this is all intended in jest.

“My mind is now a tower made of diamonds. But now there are walls and gates to keep traitors out.”

My mind is a castle made of silver and gold, sprinkled with gems.

There are no gates, no drawbridges, and everyone gets in.

But someone thinks it is funny, to act like a friend as they burn down my castle, destroy my paintings.

 

My mind is now a tower made of diamonds. But now there are walls and gates to keep traitors out. But some people slip in unnoticed. They become friends, allies, but when I give my heart to them, they take a mallet and shatter it.

 

My mind is now a dungeon surrounded by guards and walls. My heart has been fixed now, almost. Because something is missing. Something that I keep under lock and key. In a room with a door draped by chains. The room keeps something that brings only pain. Trust.