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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I hear voices. That leaves two choices either I'm hearing what's real or my brain needs to heal. I don't hear the voices outside I don't hear them when I take a ride I hear them when I try to sleep as if gremlins behind my wall will creep. The words are sometimes clear Most often its just the tone I hear A tone of gloating, dominance too They know there's nothing I can do. A drug floated to my frame from the roof locked onto receptors, a cascade without proof. I can't tell the cops, they'd send me to an asylum The shrinks wouldn't believe, I know, I tried them. One night, I protested the drugs were not FDA approved Up above, something creaked, something moved. A woman's voice said "who cares?" So unexpected, I was taken unawares. I've been pumped with drugs a very long time can't convince the FBI of a new type of crime. Bad guys can get in your house, then drug you without outside help, what could anyone do? I bought a scope, inserted it behind a wall The space was too dark, saw nothing at all Couldn't enlarge the hole, due to pipes, wires too I couldn't pinpoint the source, not enough of a clue. You might ask, if these drugs seep how they change your body, so you want to weep Some amplify your urge to reproduce Drugs to control and can always tighten the noose. They can wake you up each time you drift to sleep So petty, so nasty, a moral dive so steep They can damage your brain, damage your heart Nobody comprehends why you're falling apart. Suppose this is crazy, as the professionals "know." It raises a specter, a scenario. What if medical knowledge can be used to hurt, control While disbelief hampers, makes the police AWOL. I believe I'm drawing a curtain back You can look or decide it's a schizophrenia attack.
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