I forgot what it feels like to feel the
cool little droplets hitting my face,
the touch of nature, the caress of a breeze,
everything seems so foreign to me.
My legs long for movement,
my spirit to be free;
out of solitary confinement,
must get back to society.
Blinding white walls obscure my vision
as I wait for the footsteps that will lead me to freedom.
The men in the coats come, but not to set me free,
another locked room, away from the world I knew.
They hand me my pills and tell me to
wash them down,
with empty promises that they will make everything alright.
Another night, another medication,
You think they would have managed to get it right.
Four arms grab me, two from each side,
as they walk me down the hall saying, "it's bed time"
I keep my eyes down, ignoring the cries
of the other patients longing to get out.
All around me are signs of displeasure,
how is this supposed to help me get better?
A young girl screaming and crying for her mother,
another man huddled in the corner,
an old woman stands in the middle of the room in black,
waiting for death to take her, ready to leave without a look back.
Despair makes itself known throughout
this medical building which is supposed to heal and make everything alright.
Fear is the blanket that covers everyone at night
as they have clutch their blanket in fright.
This is my home, my shelter, my house,
these are my surroundings and they dare ask me why I still cry.
I've forgotten what it feels like to feel the sun
or run through the grass
or sit under the sky.
I wake up each days to hear screams, and threats and shouts,
and I go to sleep each night hearing the dreary moans of them all.
And as I lay down in bed, the
medication kicking in,
I drift off to sleep with a clear vision in my head.
I'm running down the field, my dog up ahead,
and I'm smiling and better, far away from this hell.