My Rubber Room

Fearful though this may be for you,

I really must divulge to you my location,

I have said I was in a motor home,

But seriously that is not my actual station…

The day I arrived was bright and cheery,

I could not believe my eyes would never again see,

The light of the world, inside this place so dreary,

No windows open, no doors without bars,

Not even a sliver of night so I can see the stars…

They said I was sent here to be taken,

To a room made of rubber, I said you must be mistaken,

For I do not deserve this room of bounce,

I came here for some needed rest, now I just want to renounce,

My need for that rest, as I am altogether in need of an ounce,

Of caring, of consideration, of compassion, or I am ready to announce,

This place for what it is, an asylum of death,

Haunted by the spirits of those that have died here,

Inhabiting the staff, causing all sorts of pain and torture, oh dear…

If you recognize that I am here by mistake,

Please call your local government or take,

Any other steps you can to get me out,

Before I too am turned into the walking dead,

With drugs first then the lobotomy to my head…

Please don’t dawdle, as my time here is limited,

I beg of you to get me out, I will be your slave,

For the rest of my life, just get me out,

Before they put me into the autoclave…

              © ed – 3/8/04