Iron Gates

Hey, it's me again. I'm back with another poem, something that I wrote in my second year of university after a four week trip to Europe with my grandparents and twin sister. While in Germany we visited Dachau concentration camp and it was a very intense experience. I took one picture (you can see it below) of the gates at the entrance because I wanted to memorise the words which translate (I don't speak German but this is what the internet tells me) 'work sets you free'. After, I was too overwhelmed to take any more pictures. I just didn't think it was right, I totally accept that people can take pictures but for me, I thought it was wrong. So, this is the only picture I took and the inspiration for the poem that follows.

Source: Me.

Iron Gate:

Iron Gate
I stood still, 
petrified at the sight of iron gate,
and peered inside through
the black metal, tattooed 
on the ground’s dusty skin. 

I follow
the pathway of the prisoners
as I’m ushered in,
crammed through the gate
under the sun’s watchful gaze.

My eyes are downcast, 
watching my dust marred shoes
as I’m enclosed within
fences high with wire,
stuck inside.

Unbreakable black metal
that once locked inside freedom
with an iron grip, 
open now,
but shut with a deafening clang.

I know, I'm very active today but I did write this in 2015 (technically) so this post was very easy to put together. Let me know what you think of the poem and the post and if you want to see more poetry/my writing. Thank you, again, for taking the time to read this. x

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