Bedlam

Bedlam

Beaten

Throttled

Thrown to the floor

Shielded by the man

Wanted no more

Cold

Dark

Dusty Nights

Screaming terrors

Haunting frights

Metal collar bone

Chains on ankles

Depression seeps through the cracks

Every night around 12

A whipping sound from the next cell prevails

People from all over

Come and stare at me

In my cell; confined; prohibited from reality

A pot is all I got

To remind me

Of the memories that was

And the dreams that could be

But forever am I here

To seek mental health

But if I can think in this pattern

Why must I be hidden from the worlds wealth?

 

-From the mind of a “mentally ill” person

Inspired by Bedlam 1547 Bethleham Hospital