The Iron Maiden

The Iron Maiden.

A tricky lady that one.

She looks so perfect,

But the moment you try to hold her,

You bleed out.

She’s a poisonous trap,

And I was blinded by the cheese,

Unable to see the bar, ready to snap my neck as I ate.

I’m a fish,

And she’s the hook.

And life pulls me out of the water,

Beats me against the sides of the boat,

Until I stop squirming,

Let it chop off my head,

Take off my scales,

And feed me to the devil.

Why can’t I see the hook until it’s too late?

Part of me wanted to change the last line of this poem to say “we” instead of “I” but I didn’t write the poem about humanity, I wrote it about me, so I selfishly kept it as “I”.