Mute May Suit

MUTE MAY SUIT

I don’t need no artificial inspiration
Prompts and images, other verses
When enough naturally occurs to me
Or a beautiful view I can plainly see
Just a glimpse of psychiatric nurses
In this locked room with no salvation

Of course I can sit quiet and think
When refused sharp objects like a pen
So thoughts get written in my mind
Difficult to remember, as I often find
Just close my eyes and count to ten
This often returns me to the brink

The sedation meds make it worse
My brain becomes a stodgy mess
Now and then a word may surface
A state that care can never service
I don’t recount much of it, I confess
And it seems to irritate the nurses

Deep inside there’s a life’s collection
Of thoughts and various impressions
Some quite dark and showing anguish
As here in this locked room I languish
I try to share some in regular sessions
When I’m shackled for my protection

There seems to be no end in sight
At this rate my memory will be full
With no room left to create any more
It will be all over by then, I am sure
The voices say just give in to the pull
So maybe it’s one last verse tonight