No Christmas in the Asylum

No Christmas in the Asylum

Christmas in the asylum,

cold steel and silence,

shouting muffled by thick walls,

a patient counts days,

marks time with fading hope.

Flickering bulbs cast eerie shadows,

broken dreams hang heavy in the air,

distant carols twist into cries,

visions of joy turn to nightmares.

Plastic trees, out of reach.

Sad drugged up people

with eyes that watch,

nods of despair

pills exchanged for presents,

while laughter is locked away.

A feast for few,

the table bare for many,

whispers haunt the haunted,

as frost creeps in,

through cracks in the pain.

Christmas, forgotten,

in shadows of despair,

where joy is an echo

that never reaches.

God bless the asylum,

where shadows creep low,

and souls of the restless

in silence still flow.

Whispers of sorrow,

haunt the cold halls,

their stories forgotten,

lost behind walls.

Empty eyes watching,

from corners obscure,

the weight of their pain

is heavy and pure.

Christmas lights flicker,

in a realm full of grief,

where hope intertwines

with the threads of belief.

Yet amid this bleakness,

a flicker remains,

the yearning for kindness,

the breaking of chains.

So here, in the darkness,

may compassion break free,

for every lost spirit,

may they find harmony.

The staff take it easy

Yet they are well paid