Mental Illness

Spin softly

Like the wind you are

And the child you speak

 

Let not the white coats

Instill in you the fear

Nor take the pills and council

For which you do not seek

 

Bear down the straps

That hold you to the table

And spit out your tongue

When they drill in the shot

 

Let not the psych nurse

Tell you you are a disease

Nor the quack who is gone

In sixty seconds flat

 

And spin again like the child

You were meant to be

For you are not a sin

Nor prone to crazy

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About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Mental Illness

  1. This flows well, and the last line is great. I like the image of the “white coats.” Good images in the first two stanzas.

    Like

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