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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