December 18, 2008
By Christine Collins, Troy, MI

Nine thousand seven hundred sixty nine
Times to fail and tears to shed
Sure, it was just a room number
And she, a patient,
A few too many purges
And back to jail
“Do not pass go and collect $200.”

Shunned by the outdoors
A window away
No razors, no drinks
No gum
No keys
No telephone.
Come with yourself
Defeat. Heal. Recuperate.
One hour with those you love,
One hour with civilization
To cure the insanity
That came with the bed
And the draping smock.
Think of a goal for discharge,
And please don’t cry,
For the
nine thousand seven hundred and sixty ninth time

The author's comments:
I have a passion for encouraging and bringing hope to people in tough times. I want to be real with people and yet, allow them to discover that there can be joy a mist their trials.

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