David Lewis Paget

Nottingham, England/live in Australia
David Lewis Paget
Nottingham, England/live in Australia
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A Letter From Bedlam

They have me chained in this noisome cell
With its smells, its moans and shrieks,
No wonder they call it Bedlam for
I haven't slept in weeks,
They brought me here from the Bridewell,
For they said I was raving mad,
I swapped a cell for a place in hell
And the food in here is bad.

We're chained and beaten by loutish guards
And starved and purged as well,
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Friday, December 5, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: horror
Kumarmani Mahakul 05 December 2014
Very nice letter with shed of truth presented in this poem really.
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Elena Sandu 05 December 2014
Impressed, you describe the madhouse, oh dear, tears again, such terrible abuses, my hope to never happen again in a place supposed to get rid of pain instead of creating it...
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