In a room,

a white room;

there was a man,

an odd man.

 

This odd man was not like men.

He was different-

Prices left unpaid-

For those are what put him there,

the damning white room.

His acquiescence does prove that what he's done, too.

Is It True?

 

Down in prolonged silence-

for something to come

Such a life like this,

I guess a different man among men,

Was immune to becoming numb.

 

With a light hum;

for the man, almost a becoming drum;

one was to come,

to try and strum,

the tainted slums,

of his mind; a useless ole’ to the numb, numb, numb!

 

A better man among men

Combating noise, such as one does

To be a distraction;

To be lowered to things, no longer people.

Maybe a game?

an avoidance of containment.

 

This man,

this man not like men,

this man with due balances;

he had no intention of staying.

For the man was not like other men.

 

He’d long for obtainment;

no ascertainment;

no hope for future arrangement.

Symptoms of loss.

One cannot blame him.