Schizophrenia poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of schizophrenia poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on schizophrenia are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Introduction: John Nash has suffered most of his life with severe paranoid schizophrenia and has gone on to be a celebrated American mathematician whose works in game theory, and differential geometry are appreciated around the world. The movie A Beautiful
Time passes by The birds flew high Grass is never greener on the other side They lied They lied Controlling your mind You’re being watched And they’re inside Your split mind Comedy and tragedy What is this horrid travesty The
She smiled for a deep need of admiration Her world was of fantasy and delusion Her senses of mental fragmentation She welcomed someone When no one was there She never knew when she was sick Like demons tugging the stigma
Helping myself wiping my tears , and trying to escape my fears . See myself scared confused clone , delving deeper into something unknown . Nostalgia from another night of no sleep , symptoms of my illness still creep .
Sometimes, what you find in a study can only be expressed in the way that you walk it out. Occasionally, one can attempt to explain in words what his recent studies have revealed. Many things that we have already learned
Broken Heart, intense hurt from within Million pieces, spiralling around Blood vessels overflowing. With sadness, that can be seen Broken Soul, impossible to ponder straight Worn down and broken Soul saddens to point of no return Positive words seldom spoken
I was in a deep silence Without knowing what happens around. My eyes were closed My body was stiff I realized, I am weightless and flying to some where. I was floating through a narrow tunnel between two different worlds
I slumber into a Magical Dreams A castle appears from five magical beans A kingdom up in the air I mount a flying horse That takes me their Giants are counting golden eggs Rocking themselves in musical chairs I own
The widest face I’ve ever seen and by his ears , thick whiskers, Always drinks sweet Lipton’s tea in a glass with lemon Enjoys his cigarettes and smiles pouring over daily papers Ringtone set to Mahler’s 5th in his eyes
Hi John and Mary, A few months ago, I heard that you were contemplating leaving. And the move was not across town nor another region of the state. But it was way across country, and at least a thousand miles
I must go to the hills again, To those distant rolling, green slopes, To those lonely, shrouded peaks, To the comforting embrace of the morning mist. I must go to the hills again, To the sparkle of effervescent streams, To
As I walked back to my house, i heard a stranger that passed me by mumbling numbly to himself about why a sidewalk will never unfold itself near the end of a routine and then become a fretwork of shadows.
Life with my father has Never been magical If anything it has always Been tyrannical I go home Anger welcomes me I meet the instigator The abuser You, my father You cheated me out of a Parental relationship Which caused
Another year has past and gone, Tomorrow will bring a new year’s dawn, This year to come has so much potential, But you making the choice is totally essential. For without choice you will not do All of the things
Union with infatuation The very night is colorful in sweet company If contact would be, very grave, heart rejoices its fancy Now those eyes are composed and look drowsy The morning is restless for union is at climax This is
Love, it’s not the first time that our eyes have met, Yet you show me nothing more than your yoga stretch, Hello swell who knows just as well that this ain’t no competition, Still you leave me forever baffled by
Will every way be barred to the expression that comes to mind short of perception? The truth will be found in the time when one day separated by days becomes days separated by never. The brief and testaments completed; enter
Mid this commemoration, Of annihilation Of inclinations And pursuits, My soul revels In these fervent goodbyes. The stiff and the spiritless, Scream my name. They exult and glorify This celebration. Agony, Candid in it’s certainty, Leaves always, To re appear
Have you felt it? Little foetus feeling safe and secure Sometimes agitated and fidgeting This to be human will join the race Satisfy family-give unconditional love Obey religion-work without expectations Tolerate politics-be loyal and patriotic I could hear the foetus
Here I Am Again In This Same Predicament. Maybe I Need Some Self Improvement, Because When It Comes To Relationships I’m Always Picking The Wrong Type Of Guys. You Know, The Ones That’s Always Cheating And Telling Lies. I Want
You hesitated relented finally arrived! Like the moody monsoon often delayed in the Indian sub-continent. Then spreading delight and succour by a scented presence in a parched land and hearts craving for bountiful rains that wipe away the summer- grime
Flying through the clouds of an agitating sky she was landed on the shore of despair. Unknown of the tyrannous rapter the angel became wounded by his erroneous desire. Following the winds of fallacy she got lost among the devils.
To achieve each goal, you become industrious, Queen and worker each by roles distinguished. To cause to flourish and be established; a colony whose peace could get precarious, when intruders are stung in defensive fury by your weapons of stings
The restless weather curses me, Why not fly back to your nest thee; There where you always belonged, Where thy heart longed. The Lady waiting on the streets in those eager evenings, Those roads are lost in the new beginnings.
Time purees And missing you No longer holds a shape “No Vacancies” Screams the sign No room at the inn Another place, then Another town Your scent, your voice Their colours fading slow Softly slip their moorings And are lost
I must be dreaming when you called my name, In sweet refrain to which nothing compares, It sounded like a call from Hall of Fame, Nay, none that I know of, in boastful airs; What joy, the lilting of one’s
“Tell me”, said she, “What do you think of me?” “A Brazilian forest and the scent of roasting coffee beans”, said he, smiling at her teasingly. Blushing, she smiled, her cheeks wore the radiance of Tavel Rosé, She leaned over,