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David Hasselblad Aug 2019
Assimilation

Three thousand two hundred and forty tiles,
Three hundred and twelve hours, thirteen days,
Ten thousand steps walked, five miles,
Eight by eight, padded room, orderlies patrol hallways,

Thoughts patterned over, over and over,
Wits dull, under pharmaceutical pills,
Feigning defined sanity in isolated den,
Seeing different then ‘aids’ with weak wills,

Not fitting the social norm,
Emotions and thoughts invalid,
Indoctrinating those who won’t conform,
Not codependent on a screen or new salad,

Sitting cross legged, muscles sore,
Straight coat hugging me,
Arms, torso, numb, like the day before,
Staring up, the barred light is all I see,

Rocking to engage my core,
Listening to helps, words, drone,
Dying to see water upon a shore,
Here for safety yet never so alone,

Sloppy with medicinal chemicals,
Padded walls permanently stained,
Where people tried to bash their skulls,
From boredom and too much sleep attained,

Isolated torture is a maddening pain,
Socially rejected now a product of an insecure hell,
Painting their lines, difficult to abstain,
Each day, reliving how I fell,

Walking the halls, ‘I’, can’t come out,
Coming out in the room I’m trapped in,
In silence, fore it’s insane to vent by scream or shout,
Judged and charged for every mental sin,

Imprisoned, I never feel rested,
Exhausted trying to keep my mind sharp,
History forgiven, but I’m not accepted,
Seconds, hour, as I mentally cry and carp,

Days on end getting bested,
Drugged, my traumas they pierce and poke,
Building walls, while my minds molested,
Individuality embers into smoke,

Cutting brain apart, they mold,
Feeling self losing grip,
Struggling to keep my hold,
All I got not to slip,

I just want to be free,
My clarity and learned self is hazy,
Gods, some force help me!
I, think, I think I’m going crazy...
Sneha Thakur Aug 2019
.
At the end of the day , it's just you curled within you , within you ,
with your thoughts floating ,
even with all this gravity.

You are a woman ,
With muscles that
stretch and curl ,
With skin ,
Which glows.
Kora Sani Aug 2019
i found the white flag you gave me
hidden in the trash
that's where i put it
just a few years ago

it was still packaged nicely
folded at every crease
it's such an eloquent way
to admit defeat

it's color was bright
and plain as can be
filled with nothingness
just like you thought of we

holding it in my hands,
you tell me to surrender
but that i can't do
for i'd be a pretender
Niki Gray Aug 2019
To teach me about loss,
no matter the cost.

To see if my heart beats,
through sadness and defeat.

To make me appreciate more,
not live to settle a score.

To make my faith stronger,
and question God's why no longer.
Thank you for taking the time to read my poems.  As always thank you to everyone who supports and encourages me to be the best me I can be.
Dev Nov 2018
They think I'm a *****-up
I tell myself "well that's fine"
"I'll just prove them wrong"
But with each attempt I make
It only proves them right
Olivia Daniels Jul 2019
People are like Pokemon
and I'm the trainer.
This time it's my story
being played by 7.8 billion people

Unfortunately,
I appear to have broken
a max repel in my backpack
and everyone keeps
leaving, fleeing or disappearing

I guess I'll catch the few
that stick around anyways
*This poem has been claimed by Nintendo for copyright*
*We're sorry for any inconvenience"
Esther L Krenzin Jul 2019
"Some warriors taste defeat
before their journey
and are wiser because of it."

Esther L. Krenzin
Roguesong
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