One of Many

There is an illness we try to hide, 

locked in generations and hidden by pride. 

A family is devastated and does not understand, 

while older members prefer to pretend.

A torture and peril rips through the soul:

Leaving emptiness, void of a goal.

Still generations live on--

But eyes are opened by one that sees 

Inquisitive, troubled victim is she

To explore and understand

To somehow comprehend

what is this illness 

That destroys the brain

Leaving sorrow, anger and pain--

Surely there is an answer somewhere.

Surely there is a reason for despair,

But why does a family continue to retreat

Behind the walls of facades and defeat

To rise above and live beyond 

This meddlesome, troublesome thorn in the side

This is the goal 

A new generation holds--

To conquer, to prevail, to achieve

To be as normal as normal can be 

To live with the illness,

But not to succumb

To have open eyes 

To recognize the signs

This is the attitude

Of a new generation

To function, to be--contributors in society--

Mental illness exists; this is true 

But survivors are many

Productive souls need not hide

Beneath fallacies, masks and lies.

Society shuns the sick and oppressed,

 A world has its norms

New shoes must be worn

God forbid there be an aberrant--

Hell, I am what I am 

And what I am ain't bad

For I am me--a soul with purpose

An individual with a goal

I seek truth

I strive for happiness

And God willing I too will be successful

In a world that demands conformity--

I cannot alter who I am

But I can help people to understand 

This illness we too often try to hide

That is locked in by generations and hidden by pride

God willing I will succeed

For I am an envoy for those who still bleed!

Composed after my first bout with mental illness at the age of 18.