My pain is my prisoner, it's not what I want
It makes me to lie down between hospital sheets
It destroyeth my soul:
It loses me in the paths of sickness, I’m sick of its name Even tho I walk down the hospital corridors is till fear evil,
Tho my drip is with me its pole and its bad don’t comfort me
They prepare others tables in the presence of my nausea
They assault my body with drugs, my patience runs out.
Surely illness and despair will leave me and I will dwell in this house of sickness no MORE!!
This was posted on the PMB with a request to find out who the orginal Author was. So if you can help then please feel free to post a comment. Thanks for your help.
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