God, I Need A Cigarette...

This is another poem I wrote while in a mental institution. I only wrote two poems while in there. You'd think I'd write more. But there were actually a lot of things to do in there... and after you got to know the other "crazies" they weren't so bad, you

Endless days,

of restricted sunlight.

Bars on the windows

that remain unseen-

lockdown nights

with the sane going crazy.

What to do?

What to do?

Gin, Rummy, and Uno

running in circles.

only our simplest of pleasures

to get us through.

Talks,

limitless imaginings

of the world outside.

"God, I need a cigarette."

becomes a mantra

like automatons

we repeat this phrase

desiring for the odds,

that someday it'll be true.

We anticipate,

and sit on our asses

wanting-

waiting-

and watching-

the days dwindle,

as the lucky ones depart.

we dance in our chairs-

humming a melodious tune.

Consoling ourselves,

with soundbites

of independence.

Our Iiberation,

just a memory,

a fairytale.

We tell ourselves-

to sleep at night.

Everything we do,

everything we are.

is given to us,

by Righteous permission

- God,

I need a cigarette.

Author's Note

This one is definitely not poetry but the rules are the same, ignore the grammar problems. I know it seems a little dramatic but I definitely got a little overly dramatic in there, I wrote this in three drafts , something I never do. lol I had it reviewed by an alcoholic psychiatrist...of course I only had his word that he was a psychiatrist but he was the sanest and smartest person in there. So I looked to him for praise. But anyways, think of it what you will, I like it.

Reviews

[Kelley]

Do you still need a cigarette....? LOL
That was great and I remember what you told me about the nut house.
Love your writing Psyche! You should get some of this stuff published.
Thanks for sharing.

Kelley

[Wildecat]

I have had several friends who have been in places like you mentioned too rehab. Must be hard to deal with. Excellent poem, superb imagery. Well done.