Disease

I actually have no talent of names

tick tock there time never stops

writing this poem is just the start

creating illusion after illusion

satisfying for only to me please

echoing footsteps drawing near t'was I for once was waiting for it

"____________ you're up next."

I look over and close the book

words flying around my mind

all running fresh to be written

soon blanks out as the tests start proceeding

silently as time pass and everything around me seems to stop

Glancing at the halls no one goes pass by

the clock is still moving but why does it seem to stop

it starts back as the doctor walks in

he smiles and says the word's of lies

"Everything is going to be fine. You are on our best hands. No need to fear of anything."

Pills, Pills and guess what more pills

drugging myself exceeds my sanity

in the room it's always te same

just writing this poem has become a pain to continue without becoming crazy

Author's Note

This is fiction what are your thoughts on it