Author Unknown
Firewater
Safety First

Author Unknown

All alone, with no one who cares,
I asked a peddler to show me his wares
He had powders, and tablets, and capsules galore
And said when I'd used them I'd opened the door
To happiness, joy and freedom they say
O god please help me - there must be a way
To feel this good without being high,
To stay down on earth, not up in the sky
Oh no, it's too late - my mind is so blown,
This poem was written by - author unknown.

Copyright freely given. Dave

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Firewater

Sitting here the waves crash over me BURNING my eyes and stealing my air and I cry and I lie somehow hope that I would die so take me away from here away from my fear burning deep inside of me you can’t escape your own destiny but still it’s my own responsibility why I’m here and why I’m falling I had a hold but now I’m falling down to where I’ve never been before down to where no ones ever seen before you go away leave me now I need to think a while leave me now i need to work it out and so you stay lying here these words flow over ME cover my eyes but the rest of me’s bare so i run and i hide from these thoughts here on my mind take me away from here away from my ANGER burning deep inside of me you can’t escape your own destiny but still it’s my own responsibilty why I’m here and why I’m falling I had a hold but now i'm falling so don’t YOU tell me that it’s ok to feel this way that life’s a bitch it’s true but someone has got to pay that’s ME the balance of tears is shifting slowly this little thought is all that keeps me near to the shore when waves caress me it’s just a matter of time it’s only a matter of time it’s just a matter of time till things turn around sitting here the waves crash over me burning my eyes and stealing my air and I cry and I lie somehow hope that I would die so take me away from HERE away from my fear burning deep inside of me you can’t escape your own destiny but still it’s my own responsibility why I’m here and why I’m falling I had a hold but now i’m falling. Down.

Rachel Studley © 2002

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Safety First

A neighbour often stops me in the street.
He always asks me if I have found a job yet.
I always tell him that I suffer from bad nerves and depression,
That I cannot take stress,
That the doctor doesn’t want me to work.

He often sees me with a broad smile on my face,
Dashing about here and there.
He is always polite and friendly towards me,
But I’m sure that underneath
He thinks that I am a scrounger, a malingerer, a fraud.

Do I tell him that voices tell me to write and do strange things?
That I see Angels hovering above the Mind Café,
And the local mental health day centre?
That I see devils sitting on the roof of the Job Centre,
The Social Security Office and the Town Hall?
That a short while ago I thought I was MichelAngelo;
Last year it was William Blake?
Do I tell him that two winters ago,
Things got so bad,
That I attempted to take my own life?
Do I tell him that I suffer from Schizophrenia?

Or is it safer and perhaps wiser to allow him to think bad of me?

Leonardo da Vinci.

(Also known as John Exell) © 2002