White Lines Poem by Dan Brown

White lines whiz past,
trying to shape my World.
They trap me on every side, closing me in.
They are sharp, strict and unbending,
forcing themselves upon me, leaving me
no choice but to conform to their straight blandness.
White lines stretch before me,
guiding me to Home.
Unbroken white lines bind me,
and hurt me.
Broken white lines trawl this ocean of innocence,
catching the impurities and allowing
the cleanliness to slip through.
White lines,
White lines,
but never white circles too.