Stalnaker 1

Stalnaker, Alex
English 1 PreAP/GT 6
Mrs. Johnson
27 January 2016
Medication
My ear drums rang as an indication
Of the days ending coming near for others.
Constant thoughts of mental medication
For what was about to come.

The yellow burial ground came zooming up the road

As its workers came ready to do their job.
Step-step-step I was ready to take on the load.
Weariness. Fearfulness, Overwhelming sadness!
My emotions couldnt fathom what my screwed up mind
Had made of itself over the years.

Where to sit, where to sit?

Oh, wait, I had forgotten that I was the next in line
To be dug six feet under and sent to the pit.
I looked left, right, then up as I asked God himself
To save me from the words that made my mind throw a fit.

At the back I saw safety, where no one was in this graveyard.

Calmness. Safeness. Worriless.
But these feelings didnt last for long.
Oh the searing pain of the words! The words!

Stalnaker 2

They dug my dirt and shoved me in my coffin!

I couldnt take it! The words they controlled me,
They ate at my brain until I had no sense of direction.
Paralyzed. Impaired. Mentally Obliterated.

Home. Home should be the place where I feel safe.

Home should be the place where I am renewed,
But it is not. Home is where I feel locked away.
Home is the place where I am forced to deal with my problems
Face to face with myself every day.

Medication will fix me as my parents say,

Medication can renew my hopes and dreams,
Medication can recover my over-sensitiveness they say.
A friend I say.
New days. Hopeful days. Mindful ways.