I'll go mad before I finally die.
I am slowly going mad.
I am a caged animal, with no room to breathe and am forced to perform silly tricks for an uneducated animal handler.
I'm going mad.
Tomorrow I should be at a place that I have not forgotten, but I'm sure has forgotten me, as with whom the plan had been made.
Instead, I am far away, severed from my freedom, my joy
and forced to walk on my hands for indifferent applause.
I am mad.
The clocks chime, and I do not notice, as in my head,
there is no time, only panic,
hatred, remorse, longing, sadness
and the idea that I am already on Sugarcandy mountain,
but the food is spoiled and though there is no work, there is nothing to do
but sit and go mad,
dreaming of a time when I performed tricks and roamed free
CJ
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