Trapped Poem by Nicola Forde

Sitting in a open room,
Yet feeling so closed inside,
Claustrophobic,
It’s getting harder to breathe.

His face like stone as he enters,
Giving her a look that sends her stomach in turmoil,
Her gaze remaining on his face, waiting for a sign,
Something to tell her he cared.

Her mind wanders to better days,
Happier days, Peaceful times,
When those withering looks and glares,
Short answers and clipped remarks
Ceased to exist.

He turns away,
Proceeding to take off his jacket,
Her face a picture of grief.



Nicola Forde - 11/04/2009