Prisons

This island is a prison;
a trick has led me here.
The gates around the entrance
and the fences with electric zap
taunt us; a reminder that we can never leave.
I know I don’t belong here,
yet they treat me as if I do.
But sometimes I think I’m going crazy,
and maybe they are right.
Will I rot like the rest of them?

Elinor Brynn wrote:This island is a prison;
a trick has led me here.
The gates around the entrance Are they closed...?
and the fences with electric zap
taunt us; a reminder that we can never leave.
I know I don’t belong here, you don't know if you belong here? If/that?
yet they treat me as if I do.
But sometimes I think I’m going crazy,
and maybe they are right. about?
Will I rot like the rest of them?

I have almost no idea what this is about...=/

You have a lot of telling over the showing. This is more so a poem for you rather than it is for someone else? Maybe if you included more images or maybe something that would allow us to relate and give it a personal note? I am not sure.

Good luck, keep writing.
Silented1.

The diction is very plain and I can't really imagine anything going on. The few descriptions you do have are too 'literal' (if that makes any sense) and could use some more creative word choice to create a more concrete image.