Whispering voices in my head
Strange shadows on the wall
Chained to my bed
Noises in the hall
Bars on the window
White all around
Hearing the woes
Of the people bound
Open fields in a dream
Hearing cries and burning trees
Waking up in a dead scream
Quieting down to crying pleas
People in white looks so pale
Stern faces carefully placed
Am I in jail?
I'm being chased
Burning trees scorched field
Runing from shadows
Pain to be healed
From the foes
Screaming kicking them away
Injected syringe gives some pain
They leave the workers of the day
Finally I see, I'm insane
(Dont get too comfortable, I might rewrite you, you poem... Grr..If you were lost I watched a movie on scitzophrenia and wrote this poem like a person who had scitz would...or I tried -_-; )
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The art of insanity cannot be hidden...you got er done..