The silence was deafening
As the pin hit the tile
A mouth filled with bile
And legacies of regret
Mix with the sting of defeat
Sit and watch all your plans
Wither in the cold daylight
Bleaching the bones of a horse
They’re fragile things
Like “gossamer wings”
They pump out a gas
Don’t even smell
Desaturates the air
And all the colours drain
With a chemical rain
Like burning meat
Tastes much the same
Somewhere in a tiny cell
The spark of suffering begins
And somewhere in the back of my head
There’s a hole where they took control
With a silver needle
A hole in my mind
Deep where all my memories lie
-28th March 2008
