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In my widdendream I scream although you hear it not
My head is close to bursting, or better yet rot
In my cage of clay walls I’m banging my head hard
This life I am living is just a safeguard
Or so they say
Safeguard from what?
Is he real I say?
Who they ask?
Mr Ted
He came into my bedroom and now he’s in my head
We all know he’s not real, or so the doctor said
But if he isn’t and you say I’m safe aren’t I being misled?
Instead I get no answers, another shot I get
A dose of dreamland to help me forget
But I don’t
Mr Ted
He is
Real
I see him over there
Behind my mind’s eye, a memory of despair
I woke up again, still in the widdendream
But they do not listen
They only think I scream
But I am shouting HELP, HELP
Get me out of here
I cannot bare to stay here
Not for another year!
I don’t think I’ll ever leave
Here I’m meant to stay
And in my widdendream I hear him
Mr Ted wants to play…
This photo is not my work
tardycreative.com 