Swimming In Their Torment Poem by Heath Gunn

They're swimming in their torment,
tortured by their lives.
Bursts of aggitation,
but they have no guns or knives.

Craving medication,
drugs of any knid.
All looking for a prescribed fix,
for which they'll hit out, if denied.
All locked inside, but free to roam,
inside their tortured minds.
And the few that interact with them,
are the few that have the time.

For they've often been found guilty,
of life's most heinous crimes.
Committed during darker days,
when drugs controlled their minds.
Graphic halucinations,
voices, visions too.
Hearing commands from T.V's
seeing straight through me or you.

Persued by paranoia,
chased around their heads.
Suspicious of most everyone,
a new greating they dread.
The ability to function,
to assimilate the 'norm'.
Is warped beyond our bounderies,
all that's left, is to self harm.

So they'll swim on in their torment,
tortured by their lives.
Wishing for just one more fix,
to feel safe with guns or knives.

Heath Gunn