Evicted from the mundane premises,
I lay deranged and eroded,
On the shards of their penalized promises,
My soul is left unlist and uncoded.
Slowly diminishing into fractals of digits,
One in millions makes meagre differences,
What use is seconds when I fear minutes,
Frightened, they hide behind fences.
They believe I've gone past the edge,
There is nothing left for me to reminisce in,
Distance is spreading like burnt bridges,
Between what is reality and what isn't.
Surely there should be a way for me to see,
Past the masks of the white walls,
And the stench of the bloody sea,
Everyone around me just falls.
I am no longer to be addressed as a human,
I've become 'it', the horrendous mystery,
I am their non ideal person,
They cease to understand me.
They confine my thoughts to a four sided box,
They are everyone that fears the unknown,
Over my expression they compel locks,
One day I'll be sure that they reap what they have sown.
They no longer look for a way to treat us,
Nor do they hope to find a cure for the coming age,
They have lost hope, they put up no fuss,
When it comes to condemning us for a half death's cage.
If there is a cure I shall never know,
For I am withering away from what they call madness,
As life drains away I come to know,
There is no cure for sadness,
Nor is there a cure for this cruel world.
YOU ARE READING
the Cloud & her tears
Poetryher thoughts are wind ; her ideas a storm ; her laughter a hurricane that has forests pinned; her smile a rouse to make bees swarm; ° this is poetry by the Cloud & her tears °
