Wednesday, November 24, 2010

...high!

The clock keeps ticking…

Clear and loud inside your head;

It is perhaps the echo of a pounding heart.

In this solemn silence,

Drops of water ‘crash’ onto the sink…


There is a sudden confusion…

As you lie motionless, almost dead;

Reality and illusion cannot be told apart.

‘Suspended’, you panic,

For you now attempt to think…


Mild at first, but soon profound…

This ‘numbness’ begins to spread;

The world around you turns into Modern Art.

You are captive, ‘trapped’ –

You can neither speak nor blink…


The minutes seem like hours…

In this dreary realm of dread.

The ‘disease’ then begins to depart;

And leaves your bewildered mind wondering:

What on Earth was in that drink!