Mental Illness Poem

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.

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It's so true. My daughter had 28 hospital admissions in her short battle with mental illness. I lived through as much of those 13 years as I could as I couldn't abandon her or stop hoping for...

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Little Schizophrenic Girl

Brian E Pardee © more by Brian E Pardee

Published by Family Friend Poems September 2016 with permission of the Author.

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.



I started writing inside a mental hospital when I was 18 and I guess I never stopped. Most of my writing has been about mental illness but in recent years I branched out into other topics I'm familiar with. If my poetry had one central message or theme it would be understanding. Once a person can understand another's mindset they tend...

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Has this poem touched you? Share your story!
  • Blue Orfois by Blue Orfois, Miami
  • 2 years ago

I read this poem back when I was 8 years old, I'm 15 now. This poem never left my mind, and I dug through all my old emails so I could find it again.

  • Trevor Richman by Trevor Richman
  • 3 years ago

It's so true. My daughter had 28 hospital admissions in her short battle with mental illness. I lived through as much of those 13 years as I could as I couldn't abandon her or stop hoping for a change or breakthrough. I know she lost her identity and still fought to keep it together. What a brave soul even though fentanyl finally did the deed. She's free now. I think of all those who didn't have someone as these people. like my daughter, become strangers to themselves. I have died so many deaths waiting for my Vanessa to come back home but she never could. She tried but in the end we both had to accept what we couldn't change. I love her all the more for her courage and faith to keep on trying. I must do the same. She was 33.

You sound like a very strong person, Trevor. Your comment brought tears to my eyes. From someone who also has these issues, not abandoning us means everything to us even when we can't express it. She sounds lucky to have had you. I lost two friends to fentanyl in the last year, and both suffered from mental illness. I miss them every day. One of them was also 33 and the other 34. They were married and passed 10 months apart. The first had PTSD since a child and the only positive thing I could think of was that she's free from that pain now. The second had mental illness and never got over the trauma of losing his wife. Even though he quit and even spoke at drug awareness events, he had two slip ups, and the second cost him his life. When that happened, all I could think of was at least they're together again. I hope you're doing well. Thanks for sharing, Brian

  • Bill Guerrieri by Bill Guerrieri
  • 7 years ago

This poem is touching, yet sad. We don't understand the tormented lives people who are mentally ill experience! I'm praying for all those afflicted, that they will know peace and strength in their daily walk. Another poem comes to mind to help encourage us all. It's "Footprints in the Sand." It reminds us no matter what we struggle with in life, there is One stronger and closer than a brother who will carry us through the trials and tribulations. We'll never fully grasp why some are affected and others aren't, but we know we have loved ones surrounding us who will always understand, show compassion, and offer encouragement.

We actually had a framed picture of "Footprints in the Sand" in our hallway growing up. You only need to read the words once for the visual of those footprints to be inspiring forever. That's a case where the picture may say more than the words describing it.

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