Poems of grit, fun and nonsense. #bookmarkquinn

Asylum

By Mark Quinn

Bloodshot eyes and grinding teeth
all brought on by disbelief.
Biting down with so much force,
leather bound straight jacket
par for the course.
Being forced to look at light,
terror in mind,there’s so much fright.
Electric treatment the mind that fries,
black-blooded finger nails scratch at eyes.
Been attained for nothing but confusion
in a deep dark cell in the asylum.


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