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Flashes of Schizophrenia
Flashes of schizophrenia, black and blue,
my senses tell me what is true.
Shutting my eyes only brings up the great projector screen
so, there I sit, watching agonizing memories.
I open my eyes then to a world full of intensified color
and sights one so blue cannot behold.
I breathe in this colorful air of the real world
but it doesn’t awaken me, it pummels me to the ground in agony.
I take a sip of colorful water
and it drowns me.
So, where’s the escape?
Some argue the imaginary world is more colorful,
I argue that it can be. Just quilted with more grays than one may think.
The scenic beauty of this internal world is stunning, yet sad.
The real world also shares the beauty but peppered with agony.
So, which world is mine?
my senses tell me what is true.
Shutting my eyes only brings up the great projector screen
so, there I sit, watching agonizing memories.
I open my eyes then to a world full of intensified color
and sights one so blue cannot behold.
I breathe in this colorful air of the real world
but it doesn’t awaken me, it pummels me to the ground in agony.
I take a sip of colorful water
and it drowns me.
So, where’s the escape?
Some argue the imaginary world is more colorful,
I argue that it can be. Just quilted with more grays than one may think.
The scenic beauty of this internal world is stunning, yet sad.
The real world also shares the beauty but peppered with agony.
So, which world is mine?
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