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It should’ve been me then it will be over with.
I can’t say hello anymore. I’m target practice for those who stare me down.
They rifle through my head and leave me for dead.
Behind bars I drink till I’m numb……….
I’m not dumb only mute and my silence sometimes keeps me safe
and the safe harbors the treasure of who I am……….
a person with a mental illness who keeps his heart and soul
always under lock and key………….
The bus rolled over my life like a pigeon squashed in its tracks.
I’m just a birdbrain nothing more and surely much less.
Horrors screamed no louder than my own and without the fare I never got there.
My busted legs were cast in a dismal horror film and my doctor said I was using
my illness as a crutch and my broken bones left me without a leg to stand on
and a broken heart to boot.
Road kill was my middle name and my claim to fame was my illness.
While scooping up the rest of the street my trousers fell and I was exposed.
They mocked me and I became a new campaign, The Loser, where mental illness
takes the fall upon the fall of my trousers.
And alone I stand without a chance to recoup my dignity.
I joined a church, I thought a covenant with God would cover me, alas a blasphemous
illness sidelined my world. I found it to be my cross to bear, but told it to be
not the destination, but the journey…………..
My life is so much fuller bearing this in mind.
The many detours are no longer roadblocks and the hurdles that I jump
are a mere game of hopscotch.
Gone are the days of my youth and once in a daze all in a days work I’ve made friends
with my mental illness……………………….
How special I’ve become in my travels and meeting my world along the way.
Respectfully your friend
Daniel William Concharty
This is Mr. Concharty’s first appearance in Painted Brain News