Tablet time, the emotional crime
Going on half past four
A compulsory task maintains the mask
Keeps him of the floor.
Follow the plan, control the man
He's surely lost his mind
Don't hesitate, just medicate
Leave confusion behind
Some have seen him, a pretty sight
Dancing a schizo jive
A stumbling, mumbling hysterical mess.
Lucky to be alive.
He's trying to be a conformist
Keeping everyone from worry
But all this chemical mayhem
Is turning his brain to slurry.
A few more years, before he's done
They might find a meds solution
But it's looking like a padded cell
In the local institution
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Confusingly comforting with its psychological tones of honesty and feeling. I enjoyed the uniqueness of this poem. Just a note: the second line of the second paragraph has surly instead of surely.I like the idea of being a conformist just for the benefit of others...they would be hurt and never understand if we broke the mode into the person that we are supposed to be.