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Students wrote poems for World Mental Health Day #WorldMentalHealthDay


The Mentally Unwell
They have no need of mental help
So do not tell me
These crazies could be you or me
Should life have dealt a different hand
We need to see them as who they really are
Psychos and killers
Stupid and helpless
With stuff wrong with their head
Abnormal and weird
They are not
Worth understanding
We should make them
Deal with their problems without our help
They cannot
Share our feelings
Share our happiness
Share our care
Instead let us
Lock them away and keep them out
It is not okay to say
These are people just like us
We should not help them have a better life
Do not be so stupid to think that
The world should be looked at another way
(now read from bottom to top)


They swear at us, as if we cannot hear
They look at us and cruelly jeer
They imprison us, so we never see the day
And yet they ask why we stray
They call Us Psychos, Morons and Thickos, Loonies and Freaks and Sickos
In a world of their own where we’re stuck in homes
And yet they ask why they’re alone
They stick us in padded cells
And ask why we dream of hell
And those kids in the park, would beat us up
Just for a lark
They say we have stuff wrong with our heads
They give us random, untrue tests
Then call themselves the best
The them I talk of is society,
In its cruel, messed up fantasy


I’ve told people
Millions of times
What it feels like
To be me
They never understand
They still bully me
What is the point
Of saying it


People imply that it is wrong
But I’ve been on that track for so long
They’ll all come with their new suggestions
Inventions, medications
But the voices still come
The ones you love are the ones that only believe some
The screaming starts
The broken hearts
The lies that only escalate in your head
Until it’s all you think about when you are lying in bed


I worry a lot
It feels bad
I worry that
Wi-Fi can
read my mind
Even phones can
Even game consoles
If you look at the yellow traffic lights
And the indicators
They will read your mind
Walking around
Being here
Soon I will be ready
To go home
That will be


The never-ending sound of relentless fire,
Destroying my home, cutting it close,
Will it ever stop
My life is just a blur in front of my eyes.
Just spiralling down and I can’t even stop it.
I was a good boy but now
I’m just a toy in a game of violence,
Vengeance and no defendants.
Walking alone in the desert,
Do this!
Do that!
The endless sound of torture is suffocating me!
So I run and run,
Pushing away everything I ever cared about.
But nothing feels better.
I am in the barrel,
It is getting hot.
Is all hope lost