Confinement of a Sort

Thick plastic bands holding me down,
Cold metal all along my skin,
I detest this restraint.

A delicate peach tone covers the walls
And the subtle fragrance of lavendar drifts about
As I contemplate ways to free myself.

The joyful sound of instruments comes to me,
Making my fit of rage even stronger.
How dare they treat me this way!

They try to make me mellow and happy
When they don’t understand why I’m angry.
Why won’t they let me go?

All I hear around me are whispers
Of insanity, pity, and sorrow.
I despise your downcast glances.

Freedom is a word so foreign to me now.
What are you hoping to change about me?
I am who I am, just accept it!

I want to be that wacky person I always have been,
running through the streets, singing loudly and laughing.
I refuse to change, give me back my life!

We are all crazy in our own way
so why am I the one who has to change.
Crazy and insane are all so relative.