Posted by Phil on October 21, 2013, at 23:08:37
I focused on the ceiling fan
As I lie in bed
Could it surely support my weight
When I longed for deathI haven't any family
I don't see my friends
It doesn't matter anyway
When it comes to the endI'll send the police department
A simple note that says
Come to apartment 8
I'll be hanging out in thereI'll write my own obit
And pack it full of lies
A hardened criminal I was
Loathed and despisedBut there is no ceiling fan
There's no apartment eight
I've been institutionalized
since 1958Six point restraints
Thorazine every day
One meal if I'm lucky
I can't eat anywayIt was a common misdiagnosis
That mistake landed me here
I stare through the bars at the courtyard
I so wonder what it's like out there.We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.
Albert Einstein
poster:Phil
thread:1052747
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20130914/msgs/1052747.html