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Clare Martin Clare Martin
Recommendations: 12

The Prison Guard


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While this is a fan fiction poem based on a scene in a game I used to play with my brother when I was thirteen, I often have wondered how prison guards themselves feel, particularly those of high security prisoners, like the one in this poem. I wonder how they endure the pleads for freedom and the screaming for mercy.


She regarded him coldly
With her bright blue eyes.
He tried to look away
But couldn't ignore her cries.


Her words were sharp
Yet surprisingly pained
And her black hair was streaked
With a premature grey. 1 comment


It hurt his heart so
To hear her broken screams,
Yet he was ordered not to
Succumb to her pleads.


He avoided her gaze
And kept his back turned,
Yet just the clink of chains
Made his head churn.


Had she suffered enough?
Maybe; he couldn't tell.
Yet she seemed to want nothing
Than to escape that frozen cell.


He almost felt possessed
When she met his eyes.
As well as being bright blue,
They were streaked with ice.


Every part of his body
Yearned to grab the key,
Unlock the frosty cage
And set this girl free. 1 comment


Yet he was under orders;
There was nothing to be done.
Immortal or not, he knew
She'd die a death unsung.


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