A place where children used to play
Truth too good, some would say
A place to house the diseased
No such place exists, no escape keys
No warning and no regard
All the facility alarmingly fell apart
The home to many was no more
The safehaven for wounded, a corps
Papers scattered, work unfinished
The people forgotten, deminished
Documentation of names and faces
Heaps among piles of past cases
Fallen tiles, peeling paints
Cracked windows, lost saints
Stained curtains and broken chairs
Everywhere, agony and dispair
For I lived there, beginning to end
I saw the happiness bend
Joy faded, oblivion was created
I suppose it was long awaited
A prisoner belonging to Forest Haven
A watcher among the graven
A simple smear on the wall
Can you see me, once and for all?
Me and my big sister, 
My poem was inspired by this picture (taken by me, edited by me).