BRAINWASHED

BRAINWASHED 

By Peter Wodgate

They arrive with smiles and white coats

gliding down corridors of despair.

Conceitedly, they say,

“And how are we today?”

They mean me, and don’t see,

the shadows that leap from wall to wall

sometimes short, sometimes  tall

but always there ready to descend.

I tried to warn them,

those in white coats

and the world,

for mankind has been invaded,

bombarded and persuaded

by commercial craft.

Our brains will shrink,

no time to think,

just led like lambs to slaughter.

No:

I tried but failed,

their patronising ignorance prevailed.

I retreat to the corner of my room

and await my fate.

Those idiots insist it is all in my head,

strap me to the bed

and shock my system into submission.

I awake and the shadows have gone;

I can stand tall, no conscience at all,

the treatment, a success,

I will join the masses

indoctrinated into a world without scruples.

My papers are filed in a manner that’s formal

and stamped on the front are the words;

NOW NORMAL.

Copyright  Peter Wodgate