The white room

filled with chemicals
and
they like to call it
clinical
trials.

Peeled away
they make me
kneel to pray
to
some lesser god
as if I failed some test

and where’s the greater good?

I become (eventually)
acclimatised to this
brutality,
de-sensitised and
all morality
flees.

Who is culpable?

This photograph,
a memory
makes me laugh or cry,

but a memory indeed
indexed will feed
my thoughts.

© 2016, John Smallshaw.