The Dying Flower Poem by John James Kelov Laing

Despair and Woe, I watch it So,
On a Daily Basis, this Life that's been Created,
Where the Fool thou hadst Power,
And the Creative mind crumbles like a Falling Tower, under the mind Altering numbness, the meds kill the brain like the Sun thus Scorches a dying Flower.
My friends they say to me, 'what is it the things you see? '
To them I say, things that should never be..
All around me a Sense of Incontinence and Decay,
Compared the likes of Me unto these fools?
At least the Doctors, that's what they say.
I feel alone yet I am surrounded by many, true sense of Bliss would be not being around any.
The Darkest times, so Mote it be?
Which coming hour, we will have to wait and see.
How Long, How Long, How Long will it be?
Until I am finally released and free?
I guess I will just have to wait and see,
Until then, so Mote it be.