Wheelchair Bound.
Feel like Dying.
Almost completely crying.
Trying to get out from this Designed
mobile prison I live.
An extension of me.
My Dead body is a drag forever and day.

Wheelchair Bound.
Taking tablets the doctors prescribed.
It's all suppose to help cure my pain.
The suffering of the illness that aches
inside.
But the medication doesn't really work as it
should.
Just to comfort my thoughts and worries
that creep into my mind.

Wheelchair Bound.
Creates an outrageous indifference.
People around ignore the person and only
see the chair.
My prisoned vehicle and me.
It's just my ignorance towards my position
in Society.

Wheelchair Bound.
Watching TV has I fall to sleep without
warning.
Is That the medication working to full
effect.
Creating my Self-centered opinion of
Society itself.

Wheelchair Bound.
Feeling like a Mobile Prisioner.
A life Sentence.
State the fact and live the Dream.
It's a never-ending extreme.

Andrew Hinds

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wheelchair-bound/