The door shuts with a click that resounds like a shot,
the people grasping my arms drag me to a four bed bay,
I am pushed onto the bed and restrained until my struggle ends,
chairs scrape across the linoleum as they draw them right up to the bed.
They watch me stare at the ceiling as I converse silently,
I hear screaming and reach to cover my ears, arms grasp my hands,
I feel the needle pierce the skin of my thigh, blackness descends,
they are still silently staring at me when I come to six hours later.
As the weeks stumble by I begin to heal, the voices not so loud,
I have met people from all walks of life, all with their struggles,
I keep telling them I shouldn't be here, I am not mad I am a victim,
a victim of bad LSD which made me hallucinate, set me free I am healed.
On the day of my release from the mental hospital, I swear never,
I will never again take drugs and risk my sanity and or my liberty,
not realising that I have already lost, more than I will ever realise.
Author notes
Kayleigh
A contest entry
- 30 Minutue Contest! by -ButterflyCuts-.
300 points, ended April 14, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
This isn't really a poem.. it uses absolutely no poetic devices, essentially, it is a story in a vaguely poetic form.
ie. prose.
sorry.. -
-
No need to apologise you are entitled to your opinion, and i agree it is prose really, i havent written for a long time and I am just feeling my way back in so contest give me the opportunity to get constructive critiscism. I will read the others. Best wishes
-
-
wow this is really good, really moving. well done!
-
-
Thank you for your comment, I am glad you got something from it.
-
Adding your comment:
