Mr Keating should have made Todd read his peom.
The prints are engraved in the skin
It cuts and restricts the ink, and it bleeds
God, how it bleeds-
The metal has pierced the skin
Have grown with the bones over years
It had replaced the flesh of man
With the clinical dead-
Paper that I thought white
Is stained crimson black in sight?
Wonder if these chains are strings
That wield others at whim
Hooked to a machine that drones
And I the screw that turns.
As it was ,Todd had always been able to conceal his emotions under a mask of hesitations, and unseeing brown eyes.
Very short, but the mystery of his peom has been revealed! At least in my imaginary world. Very vexing how there's a space between each line.