None did share
your lonely sorrow
in your darkest hours
your poignant words ne'er ceased to flow
drawn from the furthest depth
of your pierced heart and bruised mind
the darkness that haunted your days entire
with all reason long left behind
but the green fields
the flowers and trees
among which you laboured
every moment you did please
where were those who
once loved and did treasure you?
they became more strange
than strangers--not even a few
were willing to remember
you as a long-lost friend
as you lingered hopelessly in the cell
where for two decades you did spend.
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 4:36 AM UTC
None did share
your lonely sorrow
in your darkest hours
your poignant words ne'er ceased to flow
drawn from the furthest depth
of your pierced heart and bruised mind
the darkness that haunted your days entire
with all reason long left behind
but the green fields
the flowers and trees
among which you laboured
every moment you did please
where were those who
once loved and did treasure you?
they became more strange
than strangers--not even a few
were willing to remember
you as a long-lost friend
as you lingered hopelessly in the cell
where for two decades you did spend.
I was 13 when I read his poignant poem I Am which he wrote from the lunatic asylum where he stayed for 20 years