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Literature Text
They judge me by what my darker side contians,
Instead of the real me holding its reins,
Which does not conform to its hate,
Also called its bipolar state.
They laugh, they mock, they break my heart,
All without giving a hope for a new start.
It leaves me broken inside.
But no matter where I hide,
They will find me.
Will I ever be free?
Free of the hate and scorn,
Free of being broken and torn.
But for as long as I live, "free" is only in dreams.
So what is life to me? More impossible for me, it seems.
So I step in line with other broken souls,
And watch my life breaking like ancient china bowls.
Instead of the real me holding its reins,
Which does not conform to its hate,
Also called its bipolar state.
They laugh, they mock, they break my heart,
All without giving a hope for a new start.
It leaves me broken inside.
But no matter where I hide,
They will find me.
Will I ever be free?
Free of the hate and scorn,
Free of being broken and torn.
But for as long as I live, "free" is only in dreams.
So what is life to me? More impossible for me, it seems.
So I step in line with other broken souls,
And watch my life breaking like ancient china bowls.
Literature
Bipolar
Too young to grow up
Too old to be a child
These feelings pent up
For more than awhile…
Too quiet to be noticed
Too loud to be ignored
With all in this life
How can I be bored?
Too thoughtful to give up
Too selfish to care
How much more of this pain
Can my poor soul bare?
Too blessed to be abused
Too violated to feel free
How in the world
Could all of this happen to me?
Too united to be missing
Too lonely to be found
I barely know what
Makes my world go round…
Too happy to ignore
Too troubled to acknowledge
How did I end up this way
With all of my knowledge?
Too creative to be ordinary
Too dull to be unique…
All of t
Literature
Depression
Lay down your right to be human.
Put on a dazzling smile so that no one can see your pain.
You hide it all so well, but underneath your shirt you can still feel the scars.
No one knows what it is like to be you.
Your smile is but one in a billion,
A mask that you wear to ward off the questions.
Your scars are your war paint,
But this is a losing battle.
You are sent to face the demons all alone, though they will never leave your side.
So keep that pretty smile steady,
And don't let one tear drop from those stormy eyes.
Put on your war paint and go out into the world, where your smile makes you just like them.
Literature
Suicide is Painless?
She's lying there
On her bed
The voices whisper
In her head
Nobody loves you
Nobody cares
They'd be better off
If you were not there
The blade comes out
It moves real swift
And carves up and
Down her wrist
With her finger
She sat and wrote
In her own blood
Suicide note
Her sister was
The first to find
Her crumpled body
Defunct of life
Her sister does
Not deserve this
After all
She's only six
Her whole life
The memory
Will haunt her mind
For all to see
The person she
Looked up to
Is now not here
Oh, what to do
The mother next
She hears the scream
Comes in the room
And in a dream
She sees the body
Her first
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I wrote this for every bipolar ever messed with. You are never alone.
© 2007 - 2024 Sheltari
Comments49
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I am bipolar too and wow... God bless you. This poem nails it.