deepundergroundpoetry.com

Mother

They call it Tartan House
A dark and dreary house
An institute for the insane
for those strange in the brain
Domicidal premises
for homicidal tendencies
A prison to entomb
for those who need a padded room
they’ve got jackets with straps
to stop violent scraps
they’ve got lots and lots of drugs
they encouraging lots of hugs
groups for confessions
as therapy sessions

But Wait! - Close the Gate!

I know what you’re thinking
You haven’t been drinking
Your wondering why I am here
Its true I seem normal
Despite being informal
And having this fish in my ear

But Wait! - Close the Grate!

Despite what you’d wish
You cant see the fish
You cant even see that its swinging
You’re worried I’m mad
And maybe I’m bad
Cause you cant even hear what its singing

But Wait! - Close the Gait!

The orderly’s coming
My head needs some numbing
Medication and some of ‘the other’
I know I’m a freak
I’ll see you next week
Thanks for coming to visit me mother
Written by David_Macleod (14397816)
Published
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