I have started personally to speak out about mental illness and those in society who may be struggling with personal issues which cause them to descend into a dark place. This poem is fiction, I do not do drugs and I rarely drink alcohol but I wanted to showcase what situations a lot of people find themselves in. I want to do my part in ending a stigma which surrounds mental illness in society and that is what I am aiming to do in my poetry for now on. If you like the sound of that keep an eye out.
Angels call for salvation,
devils call for redemption,
the wings of the fallen,
are destroyed by the fire
and the words of the heartbroken.
They all wonder what sin is
what care feels like and what the point is,
the tears of frustration,
and the arguments which stalk
those who have fallen beyond where they should be.
You ponder what the truth is in the lies,
what is hidden in the shadows of the dark,
the liquid liquor of alcohol,
the line of drugs,
the callings of the fallen.
Ponderings of what is being done by humanity,
by society to help the vulnerable,
the ones who have taken it on the chin for years,
and never complained but dealt with it themselves,
the ones who growl late at night in the theatre of their life.
The moans and groans of the pain gathered through years,
the ones who reckon for the attention of the world,
crazy red eyes which gleam throughout the dark,
for the reckoning and the help of the strong,
Satan’s wish and kiss all at the same time.
© Kirsty Young and My Place of Dreams, 2015. All rights are reserved unless prior permission is supplied by the author in question.
my place of dreams 