Schizophrenic Poems, Short Stories, and Thoughts

A days plague, and a new way to suffer
We fell upon hard times, my brother
Now these fragments segregate reality
Pushing us toward a final apogee

Rage, rage..no, we are numb and don’t feel
A plague, now, upon anything that’s real
Damned to be, but not to become
Replaying over, how it begun

Never do we see, our own life’s purpose
The more we analyze, the more it makes us nervous
Feeling damned, to repeat a traumatic past
For, the visions in a mind so vast

Listlessly lay in your absence, now
Broken, and shamed, not remembering how
Blatantly ignoring the signs, all around
Listening to, a voice or strange sound

Tell yourself, it’s all in your head
The voices aren’t the sounds of the dead
We are grounded in our own time
We are at rock bottom, anxiously awaiting the climb