0449

driven to insanity in the back of a van,
the thoughts race over the mind of this man,
troubled by a past that only added more,
the cuffs on his wrists now red and sore,
shutting his eyes deeper to press the tears,
going over the edges from fits happy to fears,
dreaming his mind into float away from this place,
lifted by the uncaring hands to be thrown into his own space,
there in the darkness he sleeps more dreams,
to eventual light where he can heal it seems.