Plastic Chains
By <font color=#FFFFFF>Convalescence</font> •
Clock Ticking...
Every second chiming through my head.
Lines running...
to my veins convinced that I'm not dead.
Clock ticking...
every blink an hour seems to pass.
Heart beeping...
Will they take the needles out at last?
Clock ticking...
From all of this what am I to gain?
Blood pumping...
Why won't they free me from these plastic chains?