The full moon leers among the trees,
The pines holding their clutches over me,
Their hands reaching through the skylight;
The only view of the world I used to know.
Now, all I know are these four walls and these four walls where I lay.
I stare at the ghostly light
Which fails to light my pale complexion.
My hair blends with the dark walls in which I am confined,
I blend to the world around and to these bleak, black walls,
These four walls where I lay
As I think of the world outside,
I scream in fear of being here forever,
No sound emits and my mind begins to wander,
My mind begins to fear, fear of what will happen,
Happen if I make it out; make it out of these four walls,
These four walls where I lay.
The world around me, so cold yet so warm, so dark yet so light,
As I stand alone in the middle of this crowd,
I look up to the sky - the only place that has been mine since I was trapped.
Trapped in mind, trapped in thought,
And now, trapped between four walls,
These four walls where I lay
I think of the life that used to be mine
But now, now I'm a slave to my thoughts,
I try to calm myself - think of everything but here and now
It's what I do to distract myself from these four walls, the pain and hurt.
What once worked finally fails and now all I think of, all I can see is nothing,
Nothing other than these four walls.
-
Author:
A r l o (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 19th, 2017 16:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 616
- User favorite of this poem: GeraldineTaylor.
Offline)
Comments4
I made an error that last
comment. sometimes those four walls have a reason
do you know what it is?
No?
sometimes
5 more comments
Are you or the 'first person' character in your poem suffering with a permanent disability that limits mobility?
No, I suppose it could be but from the point I wrote it from was someone who suffers from mental illnesses/ depression
Thanks for the clarification. It makes your poem all the more instructive for someone whom may be wondering what it is like to suffer from the debilitating and constricting effects of mental illness. Of course there's plenty of help available for both the one suffering and for their family members: NAMI is dedicated to building better lives for those who face mental illness every day.
Alicia, your poem provides a great service by the way. Thank you for writing about these symptoms in your poem. I also found these sites that may be a little closer to home (but I encourage readers to still visit NAMI, they run an exceptional site) and might be better for anyone reading your poem and living in the United Kingdom:
mentalhealth.org.uk
mind.org.uk
Cheers, peace, and blessings!
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