“Where is my cure?” He says to me.
“Where is the cure to set me free?
Unraveling thoughts in my mind,
Trapped. I cannot leave them behind.”
“A magical pill, a bottle or a key,
What is life throwing at me?
Remember when? No, I cannot,
Remember? Remember? No, I forgot.”
“When will my mind ever be free?
What have the monsters done to me?
Strapped in a chair machines and things,
Stabbed with needles, it burns and stings.”
“Only an experiment. It will not pain you much,
Only a simple thing, just the slightest touch.
And now I sit my mind no longer me.
The darkest despair. When will I be free?”
© Cynthia Clark
Thank y'all for reading and commenting
This. This! You are freeing yourself, casting off those chains in a mighty way, I feel. Thank you for sharing all this.
Another great piece, keep up the good work, love reading your poetry