Mental illness permeates...
stealing reason, causing strife.
It stole from my son normal living,
schizophrenia rules his life.
Our lives changed also, make no mistake.
As he suffers, so do we.
From an illness that doesn't have a cure,
it's victims struggle endlessly.
Sometimes I talk,
he doesn't hear.
The voices in his head hold sway.
A gentle soul but oft I fear
of what these voices have to say.
He talks to himself when he's awake,
no matter where it is we go.
I caution him to tone it down,
people think he's crazy,
they don't know.
Some days are quiet, happy days.
He watches football with his dad,
the voices lessen at this time.
So thankful for this, makes me feel less sad.
I wish I knew what he goes through,
I ask him what the voices say.
He says, "It's nothing important mom."
And "Soon the voices will go away."
But they never do, nor his beliefs,
in fantastic ideas his mind creates.
"Formulas" he's working on,
to save the world before it's too late.
Sometimes my anger grows, and spills.
All over this young man I love.
I know it's wrong, it gives me chills.
I ask for help from God above.
For patience that will see me through
the hurt and pain.
But I won't lie, it fills me up, the need to know.
To have the question answered...
WHY?
I wonder how his life would be,
if mental illness didn't take hold.
Would he be married?
Hold a job?
Have grandchildren when he gets old?
For now I'm glad that he's with us,
to protect him from a judging world.
Perhaps someday his life will change,
with great possibilities unfurled.
Until that time, days good and bad,
together we will share them all.
Keeping him on a steady course,
making sure he doesn't fall.