Someone's world this is, in which I hide. <br />Psychitzophrenic hues the color blind. <br />Sticking pins through living butterflies. <br />Wringing hands wash nothing but themselves. <br /> <br />My fingers find the holes outside my head. <br />Electric shocks my system, I am held. <br />Pacing back and forth I'm borderline. <br />Sex when I was young was on their mind. <br /> <br />Bracelets made of leather they were brown. <br />Astringent smells inhuman yells there is no sleep. <br />Buckled down the gurney in the hall. <br />I am filled with shame the bed pans full it shows. <br /> <br />Golden hues of Autumn fill the melancholy air, <br />bright brown eyes that read the catcher in the rye. <br />Pink the book I see Xaviers Hollander, the happy hooker, <br />on the bench when she was all of twelve. <br />And the rest just like a wave it comes and goes.<br /><br />Is It Poetry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/argued-blue/
