North Wails

Flooded fluorescent mustard colored walls

surround me and assault my vision daily;

dreams of sunny open spaces always call

memories of happiness I recall are hazy.

Maybe it's the stench of this carpet that stings

to the point of erasing all I recall with fondness;

musky to the point that it drowns all my dreams

encompassing me with all that is darkness.

For half of my day I think I'm in an asylum;

the madness that exists is beyond comprehension,

I try to impose my will but I feel like I'm on an island

and I can't escape because I'm in another dimension.

On a daily basis I serve my time like a prisoner

paying my debt to society trying to be a survivor;

the warden here is oppressive and just sinister

to his methods of punishment I'm not a subscriber.

So I spend my time trying to stay as busy as possible;

at times I get a reprieve by looking out of my window

seeing the snow fall makes my agony almost inaudible;

silently it disappears and I wish I could let this all go.

I hear the outside world and I long to get my time done;

it beckons me as I see glimpses through my peripheral vision

trying to  keep my sanity intact and not come undone;

it’s pull is so strong to the point I hate my situation.

Finally, the audible alarm of my phone signals my freedom,

I unshackle the weight of this daily responsibility

and follow the path home to the one who is my beacon;

greeted by the light that is my love who makes it real to me.

Copyright by NewLife2008