Who suffers more,
the mentally ill...
or those who love them?
In my world mental illness is a part of life,
living each day with my schizophrenic son.
Sometimes he doesn't hear what I say.
My words don't reach him.
Inside his head the voices hold sway.
So gentle, nothing to fear,
yet people are still afraid.
When he talks to himself they don't understand.
The word crazy comes to their mind,
they look away.
I used to do that too...
when the disheveled man on the corner
held a conversation with himself.
Not anymore.
Depression,
anxiety,
Bipolar disorder,
schizophrenia.
Each condition so hard to overcome.
Misunderstood by so many.
The illness takes hold.
Medicine helps but not as much as it should.
So many times I've asked myself...
Why him?
No rhyme or reason for the how or why.
Just finding a way to get through each day.
Do what you can to understand...
I'm just asking people to try.
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| Writing Prompt |
The topic for this contest is: Human suffering.
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