• Asylum

    I kick and fight, but no one feels me
    I scream and shout but no one's there
    I then realize I'm alone, ramrod straight in an iron chair

    I'm in the confines of my mind
    The little room I go to hide
    When life gets overwhelming, and consciousness begins to slide

    It gives me chills this little room
    The fact It's here at all
    What purpose could I ever find for this place of blank white wall?

    Empty cold and barren
    Save for one window
    That's been boarded up so tightly, no daylight can show

    Countless fiery demons
    Emerging from the floor
    I do not find this odd at all because there is no door

    Although they speak no English
    We all converse with ease
    Because these little imps and I speak fluent Japanese

    Every so often visitors
    come see me, dressed in white
    They take notes, make comments on my sad and woeful plight.

    They call themselves psychiatrists
    they're here to help, they say
    I wish they'd take their silly questions and just be on their way.

    I have no time for these lab coats
    Filled with nonsense and hot air
    For they believe my devilish friends are figments from nowhere.

    This offends the tiny brutes
    for how can they cause fear
    if every time we disbelieve they simply disappear?

    They gnash their tiny pointed teeth
    making most fearful scowls
    attempting to scare the shrinks away with horrid grunts and growls

    These methods are to no avail
    I believe these docs are blind
    They stare right past my demon friends and any of their kind.

    So I guess I'll just sit here
    And listen to their racket
    But meanwhile, since you're here right now, undo my straight-jacket?