Well Wishes From The Asylum Poem by Hal Caufield

Foreword to the Reader,
Hal has now been institutionalized for over a month at Creedmoor.
Despite a tremendous amount of medications and therapy, his condition has not improved.
A special day, this September, is fast approaching. A day, as he says, of renewal and hope.
The doctors and I will not allow him to celebrate. He will be heavily medicated and safely tucked away.
I have, however, reluctantly acquiesced to allow him one indulgence.
He may publish one piece of his ranting, one attempt to explain himself.
Enjoy.

Well Wishes From The Assylum

I wish I were with you this special day.
Oh my Kansas Wheat Field, my Caribbean Sea.
I wish I could hold that hand, whose caress
Of all, in all this world I long for most.

I bless, pray for your happiness this sacred day,
As I struggle with why I cannot be with you.
Why I cannot fill your heart and mine with the joys
Of new Autumnal skies and September breezes.

I have for many months now medicated
With vodka and eyes that are not yours,
Hoping that somehow they would serve
As ointments to heal burn, dull the pain.

You are the salt that seasons my days
Spices my life, gives hope for tomorrow.
On whatever bench you sit this blessed day,
Remember eventually to find you way back to ours.