In
hospital, trapped and locked away,
With
my faculties in some disarray,
And
as I struggled to insanely cope
I
sanely didn't give up my hope.
I
plodded along through an existence,
That
is boring with some persistence,
And
I had irritable side effects –
Patients
are medical subjects.
I’m
drawn into female vulnerability,
And
ask the question of sensibility,
To
be reciprocal in close proximity
With
the wisdom to try and be happy.
My
exploits get reprimanded,
And
inappropriately remanded
To
my room with supervision –
An
unjust and hated position.
The
nurses followed me about,
And
I was prone to shout,
To
express my expressions
Of
heated to the core relations.
©
Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017
A past poem that I've re-edited.
Please note I have bipolar.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
You are very open and honest....which I like.
ReplyDeleteIt couldn't and cant be easy. Much admiration comes your way.
Yvonne.
Thank you Yvonne, for your kind words. It took over a year for the doctors to put me on the right medication that suited me! Gladly I've been well now for a long spell, which is swell. Blessings to you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
DeleteI can't even imagine what this must be like, Andrew! I would hate being trapped and locked away. So much you have expressed in just a few lines. Glad you're better now.
ReplyDeleteThank you Louise, for your kind expressions. I haven't been in hospital for years now, which I'm thankful for. Blessings to you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
Delete