
Grandeur? Huh!
More like a prison…
Trapped I was
Enslaved in submissive domesticity
Giving until there was nothing left to give
Exploited and abused
Musty old house
I had hoped for a fresh start
Once the bodies were buried
But, open doors cannot illuminate the gloom
Scrubbed walls will not uncling the cobwebs
I have opened these doors for the last time
Grand doors that aided my captivity
This time I shall walk through unattended
Never to look back
Sadje’s What do you see # 216
You’ve used this image to press home a very important point. The illusion of grandeur can be hiding a bitter reality. Thanks for joining in with this brave response
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Thank you, Sadje! 😊 I’m reading a historical fiction about enslaved women, so that is what I saw in the image.
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You’re welcome. Well done. Thanks
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“I had hoped for a fresh start
Once the bodies were buried
But, open doors cannot illuminate the gloom”
Need to know more about these bodies‼️
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Some secrets must never be revealed… 😉
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Oh, what a brilliant take on the prompt.👏👏👏
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Thank you!😊
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Brilliant writing! Bravo!
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Thank you!😊
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A clever one, showing the the outside does not always fortell what lies within. Great work!
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Thank you!😊
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You’re welcome.
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Such a great take on the photo prompt 🙌
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Thank you, AJ 😊
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Jenn, your poem is a powerful journey from captivity to liberation. The transformation of grand doors from symbols of confinement to gateways of freedom is striking. Your words resonate with courage, creating a poignant and impactful piece. Fantastic job! 👏🌟
❤
David
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Thank you so much for your kind critique, David! 😊
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