Poem

THE TOILS OF DERISION

There is one thing I know for certain about humans: we undoubtably, unknowingly, and unwillingly hold ourselves back.

 
 
So my philosophy of life is simple:  Look at what everyone else is doing and do the opposite exact.
 
Mental illness is compromised of seeing the irony
where others see the normalcy.
Humans are funny; we live close together yet are so far apart;
 
 
 
But people are easy to understand when they are intact;
 
 
 
What is not easy to understand is that they don’t understand their part.
Mental illness is compromised of seeing the normalcy
where others see the irony.
 
In the universe, it’s easy to spot a miserable person; 
 
 
They will hate people for being too kind, too honest, and too happy.
 
 
As if too kind, too honest, and too happy existed.
 
 
They refuse to exit their caves and dens, not only to hide shame, but to dodge past amends-
Mental illness is compromised of seeing the irony
where others see the normalcy.
To people and god;  I know god is real.  
 
 
It’s just not the one people seem to love talking about, that’s pretend 
 
 
To say Christianity is the religion of Christ is to say McDonalds’ is the tour de force of cuisine
 
 
The pain of being ahead of my time is the sharpest pain that has affected me
 
Mental illness is compromised of seeing the normalcy
where others see the irony.
 
And as for me, peace of the mind is the joy of the soul;
 
 
 
And an ingenious solution is only found by asking an ingenious question.
 
 
 
But there is no question that we are thrown mercilessly into the toils of derision;
 
 
 
Marked by the division of three nations; our needs, our wants, and others
 
Mental illness is compromised of seeing the irony
where others see the normalcy.
So at times I have hated the world, but the world gave me you;
 
 
And my sins are not the things I have done; my sins are the things I did not do;
 
 
The worst thing in the world is an evil person masquerading as the nice guy;
 
 
It has been a privilege forgetting you.
Mental illness is compromised of seeing the normalcy
where others see the irony.
 
Who have hurt me-Oh the tear between the science and the art,
 

The religion and the thought, one solely for self-preservation,

The other, quite lowly, self-affirmation.

Mental illness is compromised of seeing the irony
where others see the normalcy.
 
 And I affirm looks do not only deceive, they also distract;
 
 
And in the end I lost everything
 
 
And nothing at all
 
 
I still stand tall.
Mental illness is compromised of seeing the normalcy
where others see the irony.
 
 
 
 
So dare to be different;
 
 
Dare to be true;
 
 
For if they knock you down,
 
 
You are still you.
 
 
And So tell me, what do you see?

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