Littered With Dolls
In tainted halls the primal stride;
In open spaces no place to hide.
Through enlightened rooms where the likewise sit,
Within these cubes no vacant wit.
The shackles of eyes do gasp for air;
The surrounding beauty doesn’t care.
Subjugation in its lightest form,
From across the street, inside the dorm.
Weary for sex this lust does burn,
From the within the skin the blood does yearn.
From quaint to immaculate, the distance short;
Don’t trust these feelings, good things abort.
The art of agony is mastered at best,
The prospect of failing an arduous test.
Buildings far and wide the city sprawls,
Thriving with crime and littered with dolls.
A world from what he calls his home,
Surrounded by people, one man feels alone.