Thoughts Of The Asylum


I sometimes think
we must be all mad
and that we shall wake
to sanity in a padded room.

Or is it just me?

With one burning candle,
I sit here brooding over
the crisp night air.
Feeling the darkness,
turning my thoughts
into a darkened thing.

But yet,
I find myself flying over
the hills of this
penitentiary of mad men.

Amanda Shelton

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