Okay, so before I show you the poem, I want to say that this is actually quite a strange, and bizarre feeling to be sharing this with the internet, and I’m not sure why I’ve decided to do it today. Actually that’s a lie, I kind of do, it’s my third year of uni, as I’ve said a million times already, and I’m becoming more confident in myself, and am starting to just not care about being embarrassed. Putting yourself out there, whether to be criticized or praised is bloody difficult but it is an essential part of life. So this is probably the first time I’ve ever willingly shown someone one of my poems since primary school when I won a competition to get into some form of anthology because a poem about a wolf that I cannot remember now! Anyway, poetry has always been a secret passion of mine, and perhaps the most personal, and whether you think you can write or not I would encourage anyone to try, or at least to read more poetry, it is incredibly rewarding.
So without further or do, and getting away from the slight awkward nervousness that is seeping onto the webpage, here is my poem ‘Behind Grief and Fear’. It is based around mental illness, and the survival of it, and in general an approach of increasing public awareness:
Behind Grief and Fear
I don’t want to rise, I don’t want to wake.
I cannot move, not while I ache.
My vision blurred, my mind a mess.
So dormant I’ll remain, I guess.
No glasses, nor contacts can fix,
This odd and poisonous mix.
“Will you save me?” I hear.
“I would, though cannot, I fear”
“Will you not at least try?”
It asks with a long and lengthy sigh.
“Oh voice, won’t you tell me your name?”
“My name is yours, we are the same.”
“How can that be? I hear you loud and clear”
“I’m inside of you, hidden behind grief and fear”
Hitting my head harshly I try to rid me of the voice.
A painful, and ultimately, hopeless choice.
“Please stop, as you hurt, I hurt too”
“I’m sorry, but how are you me and I, you?
“I cannot explain it, won’t you just save me?”
“But I don’t how to, can’t you see?
“I can see, that is the point I’m making”
Something in me shudders, my hands now shaking.
I begin to realise, the voice, it is doing this.
“Please, this is a chance you cannot miss.”
What is it trying to tell me? What can I do?
“Okay voice, tell me then, how to save you”
“Send me love, allow me to be free,
Trust me, and you shall see”
I close my eyes, and begin to feel a change
It is not good, it is not bad, it is just strange.
“Voice, tell me, am I missing something old?”
“No, sir, you have merely gained something bold.”
“Will I always be rid of that old, hurtful soul?”
“No, I’m sorry, you, I and it are a whole,
But once the balance is right, it is easier to cope,
When I am quiet, remember me and don’t lose hope,
I have always been here, and always will, you just have to remember me.”