My Friend Bipolar
  • Reads 43
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 1
  • Time <5 mins
  • Reads 43
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 1
  • Time <5 mins
Ongoing, First published Jan 26, 2015
I wrote this poem back in September 2010. I had never written a poem before and have not written one since. It is hard to describe what it is like to suffer from Bipolar. People who do not know what you are going through think you can 'just snap out of it'. It is not in our control we can not just 'snap out of it' it is not a choice! I wish that everyone could just for once experience the pit of darkness that a person with depression or Bipolar suffers from. Just get a little taste then and only then would the selfish judgmental comments stop. That someone would think we would intentionally choose to put our loved ones through that kind of neglect and suffering. That would make us heartless and cruel! I wrote this poem during the middle of the night. While my husband and kids were sleeping. It is simple but it is to the point.
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I'll always remember us | ✔️

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growing up and growing apart sometimes people who really love you have to leave you for your own good and it's okay to grow apart holding on to things that hurt isn't a wise choice They broke up in college but now are forced into an arranged marriage Will the sparks fly again or........ ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Wrong place, wrong time, wrong people, right man Surrounded with unfortunate events, unfortunate people Those slim waists, slim faces, long hair and long nails Those long legs, large hands, fluffy hair and beaded bracelets They don't belong together last days, best times, red hands and playing fights Social priorities, diwali parties, arm wrestling and life stories That's the closure I needed Searching the crows, you stand tall, stand out Walking out of that building with hurt hands and burnt minds scholar badge, scholar board, Council badges and red coats brown pants,white shirts, black shoes and red ties Sprawling crowds, yellow buses, red rickshaws and black cycles ice cream man, Mother Dairy, white vans and red lights Saw you walking on the footpath with rolled up sleeves with few friends I wouldn't wish I would be there I couldn't wish I could be there Could you be specific who do you like? Blinding lights, goodbyes, Friday promises and exam time White walls, black boards, blue desks and A/C nobs Sweet memories scattered in my head Teardrops all over my bed These are the things I'll never forget And that's the price I paid cover credit: pinterest