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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1794169
My experience watching my daughter suffer with bipolar disorder.
The Closet Door

When I woke,
I looked around.
My hands and feet,
tightly bound.
Room of sterile white.
Shining way too bright.
Something, not quite right.
Medicinal smells,
in the air.
While I, was too scared,
to care.
Peace and tranquility,
can only be found;
behind the door,
no one can break down.
If anyone noticed,
they wouldn’t care.
I closed my eyes,
seeking to find the door,
behind, which lay,
the cool, hardwood floor.
The thoughts of destruction,
continued to race.
My mind charged,
To put them in place.
Glancing around, I can’t be sad.
Being locked away, ain’t so bad.
No one’s there, to drive you mad.

DJ Juillett
2000
Lines: 32


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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1794169-The-Closet-Inside