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There’s this guy who always speaks his thoughts out loud.

Doesn’t matter to him if he’s alone or in a crowd.

I wonder what’s happened to make him this way?

I’m sort of frightened to listen to what he might say.

Are they words of wisdom he mumbles to himself?

Or is he just talking to no-one as he has no one else?

I’ve seen him around for a few years now.

I feel kind of sorry for him. Life’s a cow.

In all this time he’s never got any better

and I don’t know how he can help himself,

now or in the future.

People try to avoid him: they’re scared – they think he’s strange.

Even other schizophrenics think he’s slightly deranged.

But I think he must be happy in his own psychotic way.

If there wasn’t still a spark inside, he wouldn’t still be here today.

When I look at him I wonder: is this where my future lies?

If I can’t face & overcome some of the demons I have inside.

But then I stop myself and think:

“Would it really matter if I ended up that way?”

As what the hell’s this thing called life about, anyway?

James

Tags: james' stuff