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Jamie Grasse

of

St. Louis, MO, US

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Ballad of a Schizophrenic

by

Jamie Grasse


Sometimes he sits, alone
But not quite
The voices of insanity echo
In his inhabited head

Feeling short of stable
He ventures into the world
To find that many things, like
Large leafed oak trees have voices
Too
Silence is nonexistent

He buys a brown bag of roasted chestnuts
Eats half
Tosses out the rest
The voice reprimanding
Fearing for his weight

Striking a cool conversation with
The pretty girl in the great big park-
Only to have a voice
Scream at his stupid jokes, his too cool lines

He wanders home, sad, angry
Writes a short note,
Hangs a rope,
Listens to his inner critic.
Hangs himself.

The police officer glances at the swaying body,
The note.
And reads.
A drop of salt water falls from his eye-
One voice from inside calls the man with a badge, a coward-
"Everyone is a schizophrenic," says the note
Written on the back of a crumbled napkin
He knows itís nothing but truth