Dear Doctor
I rot alone in my prison house
my shakes and splits are now voluntary
the voices soothe me and rock me
I alone am privy to my lock box of sins
the drugs and questions posed are pointless
my mental habitants signed a life long lease
and they have this message for me to give
your wife shall look good on our mantle
and her screams will be like silk to our ears
and will strike a chorus in our heart
these subsequent day dreams soothe us
and the madness frolicks in us nightly
now doc be a good servant and bring our meds
oh yeah and doc our knife is dull
Copyright © Malcolm Dyer | Year Posted 2007
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