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Sep 2012
I woke up to find my padded bed, upon a padded floor,
Walked outside to find myself between some padded walls

I stood in the pill line adjacent to the kitchen sink,
And took my daily dosage, so that I wouldn’t think.

I drove along the padded streets to meet someone who’d say,
That nothing here is padded, you simply think that way.

Along the padded sidewalks, I saw my protected peers
Hobble along in straight jackets, to protect them from their fears.

I took my third pill today, then lay in my padded gloom,
I thought not to inflict myself, for how would I in this room?

The only thought that met my mind was that tomorrow, like today,
Would protect me from my sadist acts, to which I am enslaved.

I decided that before I sleep, I’d take a little stroll,
But take dosage before such action, to keep me in control.

In the park I sat myself, upon a padded seat,
And watched my jacketed friends try to make their lives complete.

And before I left that painless park, I saw a man beside,
Who wore no such straight jacket, and stood not in the pill line.

I asked him “How have you such freedom? Do you not fear what you could do,
If you found something sadistic, although they come in few?”

He said to me “Now listen, I know that you can see,
All the pads and pills they give to keep us from our humanity.”

I looked at him and wondered, then asked “But what’s too do?
We’re all tight in our straight jackets, all of us, but you.”

He told me we must fight it, and I let release a grin,
And said, “If you cannot see the army, however will you win?”

He cleared his throat and smiled with me, then said with careless ease,
“There’ll be riots in the asylum, when we discover that we share the same disease.”
Bob Henry
Written by
Bob Henry
   ---, Ramon Yanez and ---
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