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Feb 2010
White padded walls, they are the only ones that heed my calls. The doctors stand outside with clipboards, questioning my actions. Wanting reasons for my violent conviction. Their time is short, why waste it on me. I'm not crazy, just eccentric. In all I do, I am eccentric. Quick witted, sharp tongued, eyes wide open. These men and women in white coats know nothing. Text book junkies with no sense. I am insane, to a point where its comforting. Never caring for the consequences or repercussions of actions that may or may not have any merit. A hunt for fool's gold in the diamond mines of my mind's eye.I've lost track of the minutes, hours, days, weeks , months, years, decades, centuries, millenniums. Like moments that past as fast as a blink, time escapes my grip.Like my insanity, it comes and goes like the wind.White padded wallsThe only listeners of my callsTell me to hushbut the voices in my head say " you're crazy, walls can't talk".
Richard Allen Pogue
Written by
Richard Allen Pogue  In the atmosphere
(In the atmosphere)   
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