A Girl I Met At The Mental Hospital
I've been to the mental hospital on five different occasions. I believe the third or fourth time I met the girl I wrote this poem about. I'm not sure we ever spoke verbally, but like those of us who are mentally ill, her eyes communicated what her voice could not.


Little Schizophrenic Girl
Little Schizophrenic Girl

Little Schizophrenic Girl

Little Schizophrenic Girl, heavily medicated so she can't feel the pain.
She will never leave that hospital, never again feel snow or rain.

Tears rolled down my cheek the very first time I looked into her blue eyes.
3 a.m. she's in the hallway hugging an old woman while she cries.

The mental hospital is a holding cell for God's rejects,
A place you will feel nothing but sadness and neglect.

Only 17 years old, a beautiful young girl so sweet and innocent,
Doing life for a crime she didn't commit, there was no sin committed to repent.

Just the way things are, that was 11 years ago and it still hurts me.
A wonderful heart with a tortured mind, something I wish I didn't see.

It still weighs heavy on my heart, it still makes me cry.
I can't forget the sadness I felt the first time I looked into her glassy eyes.

I'm not sure she knew where she was, never be someone's girlfriend or wife,
'Cause she'll never leave that wing of the mental hospital; she'll never experience life.

How can the hospital workers have the strength to do that job?
They're trying to help the cursed, while other lazy people steal and rob.

She barely ate, the medication took away her sense of taste.
I don't think she even knew where she was; counseling sessions were a waste.

A living, breathing, caring heart, a mind with no thoughts like she's brain dead.
The emotions were unbearable, never comprehended a word she said.

Don't worry, you'll feel bliss in heaven, because you were tortured in this world.
I'm still praying for you, Little Schizophrenic Girl.