The final hospital poem, expressing my frustration after nearly six months of confinement. I was running out of cope-ability. I went home a couple of weeks after I wrote this poem.
- I feel locked up.
- But I'm not so much locked up
- As confined.
- Confined to a small room with five other people.
- Five ordinary people like myself
- Who have come to this room
- Because they were involved in an accident,
- Or because they needed a surgeon's attention.
- The same five people haven't been here all along.
- There have been changes—
- A large number of changes, in fact.
- At this stage there have been sixty-four other people here
- Since I came to this room.
- I've been here almost six months now;
- A long time.
- Too long.
- I've long since become used to the routine
- Of life here;
- But now it's beginning to pall.
- After being confined for so long
- With five people
- In so small a place,
- I would dearly love to be home;
- Or anywhere.
- Anywhere to get away from people for a while.
- To be alone
- Just for a while—
- Truly alone—
- Would be heavenly.
- I've been here too long.
- My patience seems to be wearing thin.
- It's too easy to become depressed.
- Too many little, inconsequential things
- Upset me,
- Too easily.
- I've become too demanding.
- Home seems so far away
- That I've almost forgotten what it's like.
- In fact, the outside world seems so far away
- That it's almost totally irrelevant.
- Things which happen in the world
- May as well be happening
- In another galaxy
- For all they affect me.
- Here they go almost unnoticed.
- You know, I miss that crazy mixed-up world
- Out there
- (Incredible though that may seem),
- And I'll be glad to be a part of it again
- When I finally get back out there.
- However, although I miss that world,
- With its hustle and bustle,
- Its people,
- And its problems,
- There is something that I miss even more—
- Solitude.
- Even that world outside,
- Mad as it is,
- Provides one with enough freedom
- To be alone at times—
- Away from people
- And their problems.
- I think that's what I miss most of all
- In this room.
- Solitude.
16 January 1971
Copyright © 1971, 1999-2008 by Alien Son. All rights reserved.