CLARITY ( A Poem on Schizophrenia )

Photo by Daniel Torobekov on

I met a man.
As hollow as a canoe.
As heavy as a grindstone.
As lost as a cloud.
As silent as a mad crowd .

“Hush” he yelled.
To the crazy voices in his head.
“No, you are wrong!” he said.
Later he explained “Her soul is infrared!”
“Run” again he yelled.
“Hide” he whispered this time, and shivered.

I looked at his tear laden face,
The world called him insane with haste.

He looked at me with wide blank eyes,
Held his hand out and showed me hair ties,
A woman’s , i assumed,
His love’s perhaps which must have doomed.

I met this man as dazzling as the sun,
It seemed as if he lived in confusion.
But he was as clear,
As a bright stark ray,
And hence;
He could easily tune ,
Into the frequencies
of every abandoned soul’s ruins.

He gathered the debris.
Listened to all the voices carefully…
Arguing with some,
Reasoning at times understanding with some..
All this does leave him feeling numb.

But he chooses to listen to these,
One day he will get to listen to his own voice,

By Cynthia.

Hii !! To you who just read my poem : If You ( a.k.a an awesome human… I just know it and do not ask how 😊) like what you just read, Please do give this poem a like or a comment .. It really helps me ❤️❤️😊😊


NO ONE TALKS (A Poetry On Suicide)

Photo by Akshar Dave on

No one talks about suicide, no one talks about death,
No one talks about the staunch sadness lingering at the back of our heads.

No one talks about the pain that our tear ducts bear at night
Atleast can we talk about the mere loss of will to just try and fight?

Maybe we could , maybe we should..
Maybe we would if only we could be understood.

For what we are seems exaggerated at times.
Those looks and judgements of others brand our thoughts as crimes.

Maybe we should , maybe we could…
With a bit of kindness, voluntary time and an open mind,
Maybe .. just maybe we could be understood.
Maybe you could help us reveal what we so fiercely hide.
We are not abnormal or unusual or mentally sick.
Neither is it a choice to stay this way, do we consciously pick .

We do not need help “first”, as people say,
It’s the acceptance of just as we are do we so earnestly crave.

Even as we look at the stars waiting to be one with them..
Do we secretly hope that this belittling sadness stays within this realm.
Even people like us, deep down, actually do want to let go,
But with this unknown suffocating heaviness, we cannot go on anymore

By Cynthia

Hi there! If u like my poem ,please do give me a like or a comment .. it really helps me ❤️ 😊