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I'd Prefer A Padded Cell With A Ceiling Veiw

White room.
White walls,
White floor,
White ceiling,
White door.

No windows.



A bulb hangs from the ceiling.
High up where I cannot reach.
There is no light switch.
It burns my eyes.
No shade.



I sleep in that corner,
With the dead fly.
I sleep in a graveyard.
I eat in the centre, so that I can see the door.
It’s locked.


I don’t leave this room.
They say they bring all I need.
They say leaving my room upsets me.
They say a lot.



I listen.
I don’t talk back.
I might say something,
Something that leads them to believe that I should be locked up.
They might put me in a padded cell.



I like my room.
It’s safe.
But I’m scared.
Scared of the faces, the needles, the graveyard.
I sometimes think I’d prefer a padded cell in an asylum.



I want a nice, small room, like mine.
White, one window.
I want that window to have a ceiling view.
And a padded skirting board, to rest my head.
But no graveyard.

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Comments


  • xxRainbowDawnxx
    February 16, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Indeed, disturbing imagery... I could never truly imagine what insanity would be like, but thisi s similar I suppose. Sometimes content, sometimes not. Confused about how you got there, and wanting to make sure you didn't do anythign else to put you in a worse place... also contradict oneself.


  • honey bear
    January 29, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    thank you for sharing this very dark but exelent poem with us and good luck in the contest great work


  • lucy sky-diamond
    January 27, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    wow, a really well written poem, i loved it! especially the last stanza, its really great. thank you very much for your entry, and good luck


  • And Hyetal
    January 27, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Wow... I loved it sooo much... But if I could just understand... (But it would ruin it if you explained, wouldn't it?) I hope you don't mind me bookmarking this, and good luck in the contest!!!

    Cassie