Sunday, September 16, 2012

Tales From The Asylum III

A blazing fire begets dead ash 
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust 
I dust off my mind so it can begin to inspire 
Inspiration drawn from a finite well 
Well, well, well, what do we have here? 
I hear you don’t want to be here? 
Here’s a pen and a paper to write 
Right over there she asks if I care 
Care to join me while I sit and think? 
Thank you conscience; let me buy you a drink 
We’ll drink to solitude and being alone with our thoughts 
Think we should leave? Take a taxi or walk? 
Awoken with a start 
Startled by my doctors 
Doctored dreams inspired by medicine 
For medicinal purposes this poem comes to an end. 

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