Sadistic games.

It must be funny, for how they laugh,
Their glee in how I writhe and squirm,
As through the bars of my cage, my prison,
Their prodding claws pervert my tortured flesh.
‘Tis torment, ‘tis pain, aye.
But can it really be that funny?
 
It must be fun, for how they play,
Each day their games becoming more grotesque.
The Lash of their contempt sick song of blood,
Each time it falls I feel it less and less,
Yet all the more the anguish lingers there.
How, then, can it really be that fun?
 
It must have been woeful, for how they wept,
When they discovered me there, free at last.
The necktie of escape wrapped ‘round my throat,
As, spinning gently, like an autumn leaf,
As graceful in death as ever. And they look on,
Whose games have ended, and so they must move on.
How, then, can it really be that sad?
Comments & reviews · 3
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User avatar
ivyLeonora
Review

This poem is strangely moving for me and i feel that the title is very good. i saw it among the other poems and it had this certain allure that made me want to read it, and i don't regret reding at all because its a beautifully written poem and i really enjoyed reading this.

User avatar
Aley
Review
Aley wrote a review · Sun Apr 28, 2013 1:28 am

Hey Thor,

This poem is talking about a simple story, a guy is tortured somewhere, and he commits suicide. I feel like there needs to be another layer here that I'm not picking up on, but I'm not sure where it is. The repetition of the first line's style is a little bothersome for me, especially since the first two are fun, and funny. I feel like if we had a little more variety in them, like funny, and entertaining, then we'd get more from the poem, like bullying isn't actually fun.

My favorite part is the way you describe their features, prodding claws, and your use of writhe, I don't see that word enough.

The last stanza needs some help. The second sentence in the last stanza is structurally errd.

The necktie of escape wrapped ‘round my throat,
As, spinning gently, like an autumn leaf,
As graceful in death as ever.


This sentence makes me confused. Mainly it is because of the use of as. I feel like it should read something similar to "the necktie of escape wrapped 'round my throat spins me gently like an autumn leaf, as graceful in death as ever." The reason being that the subject is "the necktie of escape ["that is"[wrapped 'round my throat]]" well now we need a verb. The reason wrapped 'round my throat is a subordinate clause to the subject is because it is acting as descriptors for the necktie, even though it has eliminated the connecting words. Adding as after that just makes more subordinate clauses instead of creating a predicate.

Just some food for thought. Good luck <3

User avatar
gsppcrocks10
Review

Hi there! Gsp here, and I'll be your reviewer today! Or one of them, depending.

Anyhow, let's get started shall we?

But can it really be that funny?


This seems to stick out from the rest of the poem. Maybe swap out "funny" for "amusing" or something like that.

The Lash of their contempt sick song of blood,


I believe lash shouldn't be capitalized, but it's not a big deal, so if you did it on purpose I'd keep it that way.

How, then, can it really be that fun?


Once again, "fun" seems to stick out here. You might want to use a bigger word.

How, then, can it really be that sad?


Same here.

All-in-all, this is a very good poem. It's very moving and very well written. I love the way you word things and your general style. It drew me in immediately and kept my attention all the way through, and I do like how each stanza has a similar ending line.

Keep on writing!

I respectfully disagree. Often, it's not how big the words are, but how you use them, make them flow. I think in this case, the words funny and fun and sad work best, regardless of their simplicity.

I suppose that's a good point. It just seemed to stick out to me, but it also works the way it is. Just not as well as I feel it could. Thanks for your opinion! :)



We always talk about the "doers" and "dreamers" but I'd like to give a big shoutout to the "tryers".
— Hannah Hart