Held captive in the cages of the past.
The mind, in they are kept, fettered and bound.
The memories that build throughout time last,
Forever locked in the depths of a sound.
The surface they rise to, the walls they pound.
They, breaking chains, release into the air.
Bursts out, into the open they are found.
Memories naked, everyone sees bare.
Stinging sparks, beneath the surface they ware.
Emotions arise with pleasure and pain.
Cognition is rough, and try not to care.
Times good come forth, rushing like wind they gain.
Memories claim the body and take hold.
Their purpose is life; that is what they mold.
Poem I wrote for english class, it is in Spencierian sonnet form.
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