deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Escapist

  
Asylum walls, soft and screaming.
This place is too real for me.
As the night tide washes over,
Escape into my dreams.
Visions of contradictions
And writhing monsters dancing in the shade.
Through this moaning wood
The tribal drums never waver.
This feels so surreal to me.
All too soon the dawn emerges,
Orderlies and fece-riddled walls.
Take these pills:
This one makes you obedient,
This one keeps you calm.
This one makes you bigger,
And this one makes you small.
There's Charles, donning his shit be-speckled,
Height of clinically insane fashion,
Fading black and white horizontal bars jumpsuit.
He will spend the day chortling, cross eyed, to himself,
Grinning from ear to voice ridden ear.
Chilling  déjà vu.
("We are all mad here")
Cold, blanketless cot,
Tray full of lukewarm slop.
The curtain closes on another day, here in wonderland.
Palpable slumber,
Ambient echoes,
My home away from Hell.
Restraints encumber,
But the mind still wanders,
When I plummet down the well.
Written by Thethree3 (Shane Hawks)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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