This poem is about being incarcerated in a mental institution against my will.

it is cold hard ice,
a lack of compassion
or is it rigid structure
and institution
madness based upon order
and tules with no heart
but within this steel structure
lies a beating heart
trying to heal
tongue held silent
there is no questioning the rules
no reason why
only too many people
too little money
and no staff left with a true heart

I asked politely of one hard working, professional lady,
concerning a situation which she called manipulation.
If adaptation and alteration are manipulation, are we like PUCK liars to be called?
If all is resolved in our sleep
in a dream within a dream,
when i silently scream
it is mind rape again and again?
How to heal in such agony?
SMILE
Listen
ADAPT
and be ready to get out of the way.

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