White Rooms

April 18, 2012
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I came here not of my own, afraid, captured and alone,
They say I’m not fit for society, they don’t condone,
Behavior like mine is not what’s right it is wrong and very bad,
I don’t know what makes them think this, but they say that I’m mad!

This cotton jacket surrounds me just like a new born babe,
A mother’s hold in the brightest cold, like snow in the day
A world that’s white and purest light is all that I can see,
Some say this is what constricts me but it’s what calms me.

They say I talk to the walls as if they all had faces,
But they don’t know they truly do, some even with braces.
They all can speak yet only I can hear what they’re saying,
If you could hear the walls dear, you’d know that they’re praying.

Who are the walls praying to you ask? Disbelieving me,
It’s easy to know who it is now, who else could it be?
You ponder this question right up until the clock strikes 3,
You give up? I say laughing, the answer, of course, is me!

You now think I’m crazy, out of my marbles, but not true,
I say too, I think I’m fine! Who’s crazy instead is you!
You lock me up and make me stay, don’t care for me at all,
And yet you say that I am bad and make me feel so small.

White washed walls with pallor backdrop is nice just so you know,
The way that this jacket feels makes me warm and also glows,
The buckles shine in the light like diamonds within the room,
They may take away my freedom and try to give me doom,
But I’ll keep faking, they’ll never know I like it this way,
Some hate to say that I’m insane, but it’s the way I’ll stay.

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