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Reece May 18
Inside the insane asylum,
That I go to five days a week.
Straightjacket tight,
I can barely breathe.
Listening to all the inmates,
Contemplating all their mistakes,
I can’t even sleep.
They continuously repeat,
The same lines over and over again.
When is my reprieve?
Better be soon, before my mind turns to a ruin.
“Blah, blah, blah.”
That’s all I hear.
Their voices, drowning out,
Every other peaceful sound.
“Blah, blah, blah, blah.”
I feel the blood flow from my ears,
As I look to the ground,
And fade into the background.
Can’t believe I still have a couple years.
When I break free, will my fears control me?
Sometimes it feels like I’m surrounded by,
Sheep that would just follow the crowd,
Till they died.
Am I going crazy…?
Or is it just all hyperbole…?
Thank goodness I'm free, till August that is.
Reece May 16
Optimism can be,
Very much fulfilling, or,
Exhaustingly bland.

Pessimism makes a,
Darkened cloud cover up the,
Shining, blinding Sun.

Cynicism blurs the,
Line between friend or foe 'cause,
Everyone’s corrupt.

Altruism means that,
I should help others without,
Pondering the cost.
Different points of view.
Ces Sep 2020
Why bother?

It can be longer or shorter.

It doesn't matter.

A poem is a mirror
Reflecting someone's heart.
Daisy Ashcroft Mar 2020
The noose tightens
Day by day
And gradually my breaths
Get shorter and shorter

The noose tightens
Hour by hour
Until one day
My hands wrap real rope
Around my neck
And the once invisible
Takes true form
Just another poem based on my story...

— The End —