The clock is broken
and the time stands still.
This is my valued token
and this is the bill.
I see those things that
they say aren't real.
The feeling hurt brings
for me, cannot be healed.
It singes my soul like fire
and freezes my body like ice.
Life is a gambling game
where I'm holding the dice.
The time constantly ticking,
clicking slowly away.
I live for the moment,
but I die for the day.
Prideful possessions I hold
in this room, contained.
Questioning the humanity
whether humane or not.
My perceptions are altered
in here where I rot.
I cannot bare to breathe
I cannot think to see.
Sanity leaves my mind
along with the mentality.
These padded walls
they keep me trapped in.
Is being crazy even
really a sin? |
Submission Name: Sin to Be Crazy
