Twisted delusions inside your head
Distorted images evoke such dread
Delusions of grandeur is standard fair
Matted dreads is what passes for hair
Dreaming in the daytime and up all night
Talking your head off with no one in sight
Mouth so dry and you can't walk straight
Pills you swallow make your belly ache
God speaking to you through the radio
Legs will not be still you just got to go
Your skin is sun sensitive your vision is blurred
From the medication that supposed to get you cured
You are not crazy is what you believed
The sad fact is that you have been deceived
You are really crazy believe that its so
When you are crazy you are the last to know
This is a companion to my poem Schizophrenia
I hope no one is offended by this poem.
