Flickering lights - energy-saving bulbs -
line endless walkways of lifeless linoleum.
Wild white walls remain stainless,
repelling emotion like opposite poles.
Sterilized stairs lead to places
another step worse than this one.
Irrepressible squeaking echoes everywhere;
the muffled screams of Independence being crushed.
Room for only the bad and the sick;
possibly, too, the twisted and thick.
I’ve seen horrors inside that I’ll never tell,
tales of this; my utmost Hell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem