SurroundedSurroundedSurrounded by Dementium
Life is a trial. It's accepting
there's a knock at the door
and no one's there.
It's strength in the silence of a room
when fabricated chatter invades
any manner of listening.
It's in the stillness
of being incredibly small
while the world looms beyond
the blank-white four-walled cage,
leering in with a locked-iron look.
It's reasoning without the privilege
of cause and effect.
It's entering a cafe --
an intention to shoot
the breeze with old friends,
then a pause -- intuition
heart in a nose-dive,
"no one knows you here."
It's being surrounded.