The Talon

Sierra’s Poems: Criss Cross

Photo Credit: Download

Photo Credit: Download

Sierra McGill, Staff Writer

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Criss cross, they say we are cross,

With our pale legs, strangled from the base,

With the ribbons so tight, we cannot feel,

Who cares though, as long as we kneel to the better.

Criss cross, they say we can only joke and garble about,

With satin ropes around our neck,

‘What pretty necklaces!’ they said,

And to subdue our choking, we will always be joking.

Criss cross, they say we cannot see like they do as they stand above,

With our heads down low, I guess that we cannot,

For our eyes are crossed from the lack of air,

But they do not know what we see when we look down below.

Criss cross, they say we cannot hold their crystal cups, we are to clumsy they said,

But what can you expect when wires are smothered into the skin of our arms,

Maybe we could hold a cup, but if we do, we get jolted by a stinging spark,

So we will be thirsty, but not only for the liquid in their cups, but for the famed knowledge of the ‘grownups’.

Criss cross, go play they say,

Play with what, we ask, why must we play alone while you drink from your flask?

‘Go play, you are all incapable of understanding what we say.’

Maybe we are, but we’re starting to think it’s better that way.

Criss cross, they asked if they could play with us,

Tied and bound while they asked if we could play another round,

Mouths zipped shut like the jackets passed down,

We could only tell them that the only game we would play was criss cross, and no, for we told them that they were and never will be one of us.

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Sierra’s Poems: Criss Cross