Hasten, give this some thought as it requires:
Listen well, I’m not long stayed through so;
Read what I write now, but I cannot write;
So, the only argument therein would fall.
My point being this: I cannot make such;
For am a point of losing it and cannot,
You see, I can’t write this for long:
Reasons of me not writing, they are lies;
Just lies, and am so keen on getting this,
They told me it’s not long before they do it,
I always have this fair chance in myself proclaim,
Seal myself from the world and bid this a cure;
That cure gave me the seal of life, and before it kissed;
Beauty wasn’t exact, for life has none; but I may had once,
And now I have to see this guy who diagnoses me,
First I was in love, second I was in pain,
And now I am in mental asylum. Only pleasure is my cure;
Alas in our world these pleasures are viewed as immoral;
So, I am in this room with no one around me. Cure indeed!
What a world; yet am the world itself.
This room is my universe; every object touched is mine touched.
Oh, hours went by before they sent me off for it;
I have to descend further into this false madness;
But though am told I’m not of mental capacity,
I have to agree; my love was a mistake and I am a mistake;
I am henceforth mad because I am in this room;
And as I saw the royals dance nude before me, I wore the crown;
Proclaim me king of the fools, for I am the fool of the king;
Now I am surely mad, and these drugs I take what could they be?
One for anti-depressants; the other for improving mental performance;
The other for reintegrating into society; the other for being just a human,
Pending patents; and the government too is satisfied with the taxes;
Pending madness; and I too am satisfied with the money I spend on them.
My son, I had one? No three? Perhaps a few legitimate, but none there;
Couldn’t get married because of all this, so she left me;
Am left all on my own, an alone; but these doctors keep me company;
Restraining me was only part of the bondage; but I love my doctors,
They tell me we’re friends, and they tell me they’re curing me,
They even tell me that I’m making ‘excellent progress’ and was rewarded,
With smiles and cheers with a teddy bear hugged and a pat on the back:
Aw, but am only an adult and require none of this.
I only want my life back, and I only want my love back;
None of this had to happen.
Why am I here captive?
I don’t even deserve being here because it is not my place being here;
I can’t think straight with all the silence in this room and just waiting…
Just waiting (had to keep rhyme, ya see) for a door to just open!
Alright, maybe my life isn’t as bad after all;
This isn’t a very poetic prose of all, and is awful;
But this is indeed my poetic justice unto myself,
Damn this government, for I lost my love for it;
And now, my life. Goodbye.