Wrapped in troubles

Illness

You say I'm twisted from the head,but everything seems fine to me. You check on me constantly and decide on marking me as "Ill". You repeatedly mock me by whining about wanting to go home. You think you are sane, even though all I see in you is wrong. You trick people into thinking there's something wrong with them and you make an agreement with them in order for them to stay sane. You see their riches and steal it from them in exchange you give them unnecessary prescriptions. You drug them up with your words and slowly make them into your own puppets. Once you've taken all their riches you proceed to make  another arrangement that involves them giving you special services in order for them to get cured. Now you've given them real diseases and annoying tumors. When you've truly finished them off you lock them up and numb their pain but you still continue to suck their wellness out like a leech. You all this yet you say I'm the one that's ill. You took everything away from me. You only left me with darkness and illusions of getting well enough to be called sane. You said I was too ill for this world even when I was sane. You tricked me into illness. You never cared about me you just wanted more riches and more personal servants. After all of the tricking you've finally made us powerful enough to rebel against you. You've made us invincible because you showed us all the fears of the world. We now know how to convert it into our own grotesque fun house.