18 August 2014

We called it home

empty hallways echo the screams of my mates
one by one they met their fate
some got therapy, ten thousand volts to the head
some were strapped down tight in their beds
others were cuddled in jackets of white
permanently stuck in a wrap around hug
some got lobotomies with a push and a tug
metal picks used to scramble their brains
leaving them drooling not knowing their names

deep down inside we know we weren't right
of course not
our heads were screwed on too tight
tons of loose wires crisscrossed in our heads
your thoughts aren't that straight”
is what they had said
flesh was our canvas
blood was our paint
we never took things too seriously

surprised when I learned
they were closing the doors
they medicated our asses
sent us to roam
none of us made it
we all ended back
to haunt the halls of our asylum
and that is all fact

Where's My Asylum
Copyright © 2014 by Patrick B Vince

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