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Mar 2015
I was sitting in my white room
Sitting on top of the world
Where there are no cares to implore
Never worried about if there was more
Touching monsters that are made to laugh
Tasting colors , smelling every sound
Bite the dog of realities hound
All this in a way , without any
Hell has come to claim it's fair game
In the deserted cemeteries of the heart
This poem is about an is an asylum where severe mentally ill patients were kept sedated 24/7 in white rooms with padded walls and no windows . They were kept that way 20 , 30 , 40 , years or more until they died . Their bodies often went unclaimed by family and their bodies were buried on the grounds cemetery . Only a ten inch iron cross with a number on it to mark their grave . Often I wondered about the souls of these mentally deserted people and where would they go after the deserted cemeteries of the heart .
South by Southwest
Written by
South by Southwest  Trussville , Alabama
(Trussville , Alabama)   
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