www.whyville.net Jan 10, 2010 Weekly Issue



holiday50
Whyville Poet

Rehab

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FRONT PAGE
CREATIVE WRITING
SCIENCE
HOT TOPICS
POLITICS
HEALTH
PANDEMIC
The world's spinning around in my head
I'm too scared to get up,
too scared to walk away from my bed.
They tell me the world is a terrible place,
that I'm just fine here,
that I'm safe in my space.
It's a game
I'm safe
I'm not safe in this game.

They keep me locked,
they say that its for my own good.
To keep me away from the poison
to keep me away from chatwood.
I peak through the shutters
wondering, who stole the sunlight?
It's daytime but they tell me it's night.
The rooster crows but the it's sound of fireflies.
The owl hoots up at the starry sky.
It's like the tiny sparkles
sprawled across the dim, dark floor.
Beyond on the dust of the concrete shore
I know that it's there.
It's like a game of hide and seek,
it's a game
I'm safe
but no one's safe in this game.

This illusion is all that I have.
This is my prison and there's no getting away.
I'm a slave
in this cave
locked up in this eternal for the rest of my life.
The sand's the only thing that keeps me satisfied.
They tell me there's nothing to see.
I'm reaching my hands for a past memory.
I've got too little of them left
This prison's erased all the ones that I've kept.
And I know
that if I go
I'll be caught in this game

 

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