I used to dream I’d gone back to
The mental institution
I lived in for six months when I
Was in my darkest days
The halls, I still remember, but
The rooms fade into memory;
As I would shuffle up and down
Its limited pathways
Me being me, I spent my time
Falling in love with nurses,
And counselors and social workers
Who all tried their best
To help me get someplace where I
Would want to go on living;
Instead of where I’d been, which was
The middle of depressed
I’m grateful to those people, though
I doubt they much remember
Some patient who would play piano
Hours of the day
And yet, I’ve never thought
That there’s no way I could go back there:
I am the same guy underneath
Constructed the same way
And so I don’t look back within
Some privileged position:
The many things that make us fragile –
These are always here
But I view with compassion
All the many who are struggling
To push away the emptiness
They can’t make disappear
And ask, if you are one of those,
Remember, just remember,
That every loving thing is born
Within
A world
Of fear