Unconditional Morphine Rant

I just got out of the hospital and have been placed on these lovely orange medication pills.
Bear with me.

The nurses were bantering, their nonsense never ending
Like a long, roiling waterfall from the top and down
And as I lie and I wait for the noise to end
I glance up at the ceiling and my problems begin

It’s a cinnamon swirl of illusions
Pictures and images of things I never saw before
The ceiling above my bed was speaking to me and it said:
Don’t let your hopes die; you’ll be outta here soon.

For another hour I just lie and stare
Wondering when I was getting out of there
But they didn’t stop the talking, and they didn’t stop the poking
And I nearly withered up and died like a winter rose
If all for the little fact at hand; I wanted to live
And I didn’t plan to die
To die is my sin

I was driven into paranoia; I was as sane as a slayer
The walls began to speak to me in ways you wouldn’t dream
They formed pictures, of the gates of hell
I fought off the idea I was its desire
But the gates grew larger and larger still

And from the tiles on the floor there began to form,
Sharp thorns that made me cry out in pain
Louder and louder and louder
Until somebody was listening to me
Until somebody pulled out the barb and hushed me to sleep

To sleep was to worry, and to worry was to die
The compliments the nurses gave were of no reassurance
I could barely move, hardly walk, I couldn’t run for my life
One step, two step, three step, four
And I fell into a pit of monotony, learning how to walk again
Learning how to brush aside the pain again
Learning how to live for the first time

That Great TBR i can really see all that in the poem, well done.

The nurses were bantering, their nonsense never ending I like "bantering", good adjective.
Like a long, rolling waterfall from the top and down
And as I lie and I wait for the noise to end
I glance up at the ceiling and my problems begin Good opening, this stanza gave me an introduction.

It’s a cinnamon swirl of illusions I like the "cinnamon swirl" simile..
Pictures and images of things I never saw before
The ceiling above my bed was speaking to me and it said:
Don’t let your hopes die; you’ll be outta here soon.

For another hour I just lie and stare
Wondering when I was getting out of there
But they didn’t stop the talking, and they didn’t stop the poking
And I nearly withered up and died like a winter rose I love this line, it gave me a strong image of a dying rose covered with snow..good one.
If all for the little fact at hand; I wanted to live
And I didn’t plan to die
To die is my sin

I was driven into paranoia; I was as sane as a slayer
The walls began to speak to me in ways you wouldn’t dream
They formed pictures, of the gates of hell
I fought off the idea I was its desire
But the gates grew larger and larger still

And from the tiles on the floor there began to form,
Sharp thorns that made me cry out in pain
Louder and louder and louder
Until somebody was listening to me
Until somebody pulled out the barb and hushed me to sleep

To sleep was to worry, and to worry was to die
The compliments the nurses gave were of no reassurance
I could barely move, hardly walk, I couldn’t run for my life
One step, two step, three step, four
And I fell into a pit of monotony, learning how to walk again
Learning how to brush aside the pain again
Learning how to live for the first time I like the conclusion, it wrapped up the whole scene and poem.

Overall, this is a great poem. I advise you to edit it a bit, but this is great how it is.

Good work.

:Runs up behind you:
:Wraps arms around and sobs: I LOVE YOU!
LOL.

I am a bit scary on medication... neahaha.... :twitches: Thank you both of you .

Haha...I LOVE YOU TOO!

You're welcome.

By your request...

I thought this was very creative. Your word choices were dead on, there were no words in it that leapt out at me, screaming "FIX ME DAMN YOU!" so that's always a nice thing to be able to say.

However, this sentence,

I was driven into paranoia; I was as sane as a slayer

Made no sense to me. A slayer of what? And why is the slayer insane?

To sleep was to worry, and to worry was to die
The compliments the nurses gave were of no reassurance
I could barely move, hardly walk, I couldn’t run for my life
One step, two step, three step, four
And I fell into a pit of monotony, learning how to walk again
Learning how to brush aside the pain again
Learning how to live for the first time

That stanza's really sweet. Kudos.

...Felt like a specimen, did you? In a cage, perhaps? A cage with white sheets instead of bars?

In any case, nice work, as I've come to expect.

--Q

Slayers are murderers and when I said that I meant I was as sane as some insane murderer.
Yeah, now that that's settled...