After I was captured
I was sold to a mild man
Who gave me the choice
Of the light of the atrium
Or the dark of the arena.

I could have served drinks
Or tended exotic flowers,
Cleaned out the latrines
Or massaged demi-gods,
But I wanted to be myself.

In the light I would wear
A cute little number edged
With a Greek-key hem.

In the dark I would have
A choice of three, yes, three
Different martial looks.

And so it came to pass,
I chose to become a Thracian,
Near naked with a glint of hope.

After I was captured
By my Neptune nemesis,
I stared at his fish-eyes
And waited for the light
Or the dark of the thumbs.

Poetry by Christopher Fernie The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 71 times
Written on 2021-07-06 at 23:57

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
To be one’s self at all costs. Authenticity! Bravo well written Chris.