We were made
perfectly, not so others
could take advantage
of us and be trampled on.
We have a light inside of
our eyes that was not
created to see despair
unless the faded lies of
paper dreams are real.
Nothing makes my heart
beat miss anymore.
The ‘red light’ of my
halo has dissovled.

We were given a
promise to live
forever but we cut
ourselves so we can
die. Now they walk past
me when I’m drowning.We
were made to laugh and
the streets of homeless
angels make us weep.
The pale reflection
in the mirror is
more than a face,
now it is one big scar
that unites this
growing army.
We were made to
love but all we know
is suffering. And even
the beds of Bethlehem
are full, where are
my rights? Can you
spare a penny for
me and my troubles?
Are the stars going
out in your life?

By: David Holloway

The Colours of Schizophrenia

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