The Screen

She was behind the screen, so no one knew
The wrongs that people do, when thought unseen;
The life of lonely horror, riddled through
With misery, and pain – and thorazine –

She struggled from inside to find a voice,
A bit of freedom — anything at all —
But in a world walled off from hope or choice,
She lived in fear, a sort of human thrall

To those who held the power over her.
Some were not bad, but many were not good —
The days and nights a semiconscious blur,
With little known, and less well understood —

The broken mind, the will that’s shaped and bent;
Behind the screen, where none
Are innocent

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