When a milk bottle top,
is homeless on the streets,
And the loss of our reality,
is awakened by the moon-
When the patterns that appear,
remain from yesterday’s fear,
And into the chaos of tranquility,
My darkness reminds my senses,
of the scars and the paranoia,
As deep within our broken lines,
lies insecurity and my tears,
But the mind will never learn,
A path to recovery has escaped,
witnessed by the eyes of love!

David Holloway (c) 2011
By www.schizophreniapoetry.com

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