“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
@realisticpoetry. Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
Anxiety is the ruling force in this poem as the person anticipates the fresh and invigorating arms of freedom! In the meanwhile, the battle from within persists...so over whelming. Like a heavy weight on the heart. Great write!