First, continued apology for not answering your comments on recent posts. Doing my best to catch up, so don’t give up on me, OK? This is a dark take on the Sunday Whirl prompt; wordle is listed below. Thanks, and peace, Amy
The Ward and Me
Shadowy business, this
Nestled in the crook of a couch
for another shrink rap
My balance, shaky at best
This ward filled with walking open sores
Memories ooze from their psychic wounds
The runoff seeps up the floorboards
leaving smudgy, evil footprints
Traces of ghosts linger, follow us inmates:
Xeroxed Marleys, hovering phantoms whispering
what happened back when
back then
Grandma Blanche was a frequent flier,
restless for answers to
bizarre questions that made Grandpa cringe
and then commit her
They’d strap her down
They’d scorched her tortured brain
A sick science fair
I know that old game, how they
sucked the fun out of her
so I play along
I’m afraid but don’t let it show
I whistle a happy tune
This will all be over soon
I think
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For The Sunday Whirl: Straps, Balance, Sores, Ghosts, Smudgy, Bizarre, Scorched, Shadowy, Restless, Nestled, Whistle, Know, Seeps. And, as always, to be found in the right column of my poetic kith and kin, Poets United.
Sharp Little Pencil 