Into Care (Poetry)

They’ve taken over now —
theirs the choices how you spend
what’s left.
Duty fashions locks and bars
for your own good
they say
it’s obvious
that you’re not fit
to make decisions
any more.

‘Forgetful and confused’
they say
no option then
but strip away
your independence —
invade your castle
confiscate those rich
imaginary lands.
Show you that
questionable mercy.

There, there —
it’s for the best.
But best
for who?

I think of you locked in —
a prisoner of conscience — theirs.
And I’m listening
for the echo —
the muffled roar
inside your brain
bouncing
wall to wall
where a poem writes itself
in spite of all.