To the richest and the happiest;
To poverty and persecution ;
To a warm comforting fantasy;
To powers and to magical thoughts;
To stubborn obsessive compulsives;
To street bums and manic bag ladies;
To broken hopes denied and relived;
To empty dreams beyond far Heavens;
TO THE PATIENTS LIKE OTHER PATIENTS:
I have often wondered of your world...
Not here, not there, but within your mind.
I have wondered if it was kinder...
I have wished your world was better.
You are patients like the rest to me.
Demented/ mental patients to some.
Crazy people the world stigmatize.
The insane that the rest ostracize.
If you have congenital defects,
Or any other medical pains,
Or even terminal diseases,
You would be easier to accept.
But our world is not kind to your world.
Is it hard to see, you too, need love?
That you have chemical imbalance
in the brain called neurotransmitters?
Sanitariums of long gone circa
were erected to punish your thoughts.
To whip you to sanity was kind.
But was reality saner then?
Having lived in this wide trivial world,
we each encountered our demons.
Normal men within a crazy world,
versus insane men in perfect worlds.
The Psychiatry Department walls
hold illusions beyond far reaches.
They help deluded women and men
who have left for better perfect worlds.
They nurture the sad persecuted
to free them from self persecution.
They make stark realities outside
bearable than a world of magic.
They present the harsh lights from without
preferable than a world of dreams.
Psychiatry heals the world within
but never the broken world without.