Madness – Thirty Poems in Thirty Days # 29

I’m doing a month of poetry, one new poem each day for thirty days. Here’s number twenty nine of thirty.

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I have not be taken
They are all mistaken
They give me pills for my aching
Head and heart which have been forsaken

I remember too vividly where I have been
All the deeds I’ve done and the sights I’ve seen
I hear the howling of specters unseen
But surely insanity is not what all this means

I shout and scream until I grow hoarse
From behind curtains of doubt they feel no remorse
They are my keepers, and they set my course
I will one day be sure to settle the scores

I am locked helpless in white rooms
Oppressive like early and empty tombs
Buried alive in unsustaining wombs
But the rose of death will not soon bloom

There is no mercy for us who wander
No satiating balm for those who wonder

Instead there is but ridicule
Infinite lives being taken for fools

Thought it has been writ
We will have our vengeance
For it is the meek who shall inherit

It is with that hope that I quietly wait
Taking all things in stride
With the flame of destiny burning in my eyes
In this madness I stay


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