Poems: Dotback to poem listing
My eyes are squinting, straining to see
out to the east, across the sea.
It's 6AM and the sky starts to
turns a slight pink, from its dark blue.
Not sure what it is, what my eyes perceive,
or if it's my mind trying to make me believe.
The dot grows bigger on the great blue,
again, I'm not sure if it's even true.
I know quite well and I'm aware
that what I see may not be there.
I hear those voices, scream and yell.
I see those images, smell those smells.
The call me "Schizo, Psycho, and Insane!"
but no one understands the pain
or the way my senses are corrupted
making me feel quite interrupted.
No one knows just how my life
is so different, so full of strife.
The medicine can bring me back
to reality, that which I lack
under normal circumstances too
can make me act not quite like you.
Don't laugh at me, at you I won't,
because I just see things you don't. |
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