Just a short little poem I wrote, one day while I was bored...
Disclaimer: If I owned this character, don't you think I'd have killed him off by now?
Title: From the desk of Dr. Mackenzie
Dr. Mackenzie wrote on his notepad. He wasn't paying attention, just writing down what came to mind. A few days later, he came once again upon the notepad. He burned the note, so that no one would ever find it. This is what he wrote.
Sanity is a silly thing
Insane has a better ring!
I'm wearing a jacket of white,
This straight jacket is very tight.
I live in a room with padded walls,
No time for my important calls.
They keep talking to me!
It's the people you can't see.
But now I'm never alone.
There here with me when you go home.
It's the people you can't find.
They're messing with my mind.
The voices talk about all kinds of stuff;
How much is true, how much is bluff?
But is any of it real?
I don't know what to feel.
How much of what they say can I trust?
My self-confidence has started to rust.
But the 'real' people use their charm,
And inject a liquid into my arm.
The voices begin to fade.
The quiet is like a sharp blade.
It goes directly to my heart,
My world is being torn apart.
The silence is so loud.
I miss my old crowd.
A/N: This is m y poem. You want it, ask me for it.
