A poem that rhymes..
Seeing things,
that cannot be,
a sure warning sign
of insanity.
A look in the mirror,
a sight of horrors,
unimaginable,
sinking despite the moores.
Can't stop now, it's almost finished,
they're taking me away, too soon.
My body is being numbed,
Out cold; before noon.
Brutally awakened by cold,
the dampness of a windowless room,
But not alone...
Sanity is the mark of loneliness.
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