Nervous Breakdown

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Summary

A Book of Poems About a Nervous Breakdown" is a raw and introspective collection of verses that delves deep into the tumultuous journey of a mind in crisis. The poems capture the essence of anxiety, despair, and vulnerability, painting a vivid picture of the narrator's emotional landscape. Through evocative language and poignant imagery, the book explores the highs and lows of mental health struggles, offering a glimpse into the complexities of human emotions. As readers immerse themselves in the verses, they are taken on a cathartic and empathetic journey, fostering a greater understanding of the human condition and the power of resilience.

Status
Complete
Chapters
4
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
16+

Nervous Breakdown

Cobweb

I only have a thread of hope left

A spider's web that looks fragile

It's a shot in the dark that lost shape

While I have a fever dream

Even if you don't have a fever.

Released at the top of my lungs, a prayer

That propagates in an echo and is lost.

As I preached to my dream

The trading floor, in which my fear

It's not like waking up and seeing another day

But to wake up and see another day

In which hypocrisy reigns in each one.


Nobody goes anywhere

while your freedom

Is not rescued from the fast,

The sheer hunger for knowledge and reality.

there is truth

And when those who sleep wake up

Take the pure nectar and believe

That knowledge is the way

To discover your next home

Like birds leaving the nest,

They learn to fly on the horizon of the new dawn.

End

To me

the hours in the background

At the ends of the world

I shout yes

To silence so many nos

That don't fit in my hands.


Empty hands at the end

In the fight

Like the rosemary fields

On the hills of bitterness

where life lost its meaning

Where the devil lost his boots

Unloved and Forgotten

In the hours, neither alive nor dead.

Harbingers of Destruction (All Politicians - No Exception)


harbingers of doom

They gave a sign of their graces

To preach to the people

that changed something

When the sand of time

Blind who wants to see the truth

It's not the people's fault

It's the fault of propaganda that kills reality.


People, this silence

It's a nail in the coffin

In a country that dies poor and hoarse

People, they have no compassion.


Today a son goes not to war

But it's as it were.

Today a son leaves home

In the hope that it will

To find better life

Or will your life be compromised

Facing the harbingers of doom

Who preach that change

It's right t

here around the corner.

Ignorance


Far from my ignorance,

I'm in the only place,

Where can I kill her,

Without committing any crime.


Now I can just ignore it,

That piece of me,

That takes me away from wisdom,

Of pure endless knowledge.


Or else, kill it little by little,

No crime or recriminations.

Without being afraid of my actions,

I grasp the wisdom of thousands of books.


I torture it, disembowel it and cut it,

She twists, screams, but from here,

Don't run away while I, student,

Do not kill ignorance,

That has haunted him since childhood.


The one who is petty, evil,

It made me an unloved person.

It almost destroyed who I am,

But finally I was the one who killed it.

The pain of loneliness

The pain of loneliness

For the nefarious contempt

To those who love the dark

From her giving rise to random epics.


Told across the seas the glory of the nation

But fate gave them everything

Less on the story, a little consideration

These are the sages, representatives of Luso.


Platonic lovers, ship designers,

Dreamed of never sailed seas

They defied death to make of scorpions poison, ink

Distilling their poison, but unloved.


Society killed them, like fleas

Slowly sucking and poisoning.

In the end, society proclaims rhymes as its

Lay people are wise, the wise are uneducated.

Cruelty

Every drop of cruelty

That form in the dew

From the dawn of reality

At rest, before work

Of lives that dreamed of peace,

all ideologies died

For only one and only one able

Dictated the fate of many who clashed

In the reality of sins they didn't commit.


Corrupt laws in a unique theology

In a corrupt theology above all others

in a single line of thought

When the being dares to be born in the dawn

The day will be red and sad without love

And the flesh slowly rots in the heat

And to the sound of the orchestras of weapons.


Soldiers occupy every bed

These beds, where children could sleep

And dream a better world and smile.

Women, mothers and creators of science

Protectors of happiness and childhood

Could be free to be more and better

May the Men who corrupt everything

And that they forget what love is.


Stoned, raped, sold,

The best women suffer.

Child soldiers, little lost souls

Who could be holders of everything, suffer.

True

Only those who tell the truth,

knows its true real meaning.

Comes from this, kindness

Even for those who have forgotten

That the truth should be the pillar

fundamental of human laws, next to respect.

For which one must fight.


Truth is not bought on the market

of counterfeit products

But even so, it is sold for nothing, apparently.


Respect is the foundation

of trust, and it is with trust,

Along with respect,

In truth there is peace among all men without exception.


The truth does not kill but it grinds

Who lies, mind closed-minded.

It hurts? I know well that it hurts.

If someone comes to you at dawn

And admit, that this person who was mistaken,

Someone lied about you earlier in your tailcoat.


Take that person to your house

And look who you have in front of you

Be kind and share your food.

If that someone is going to hit the whole hand later,

It's because he's demanding, that's obvious.

You know you gave a finger.

He this person asked for a whole arm,

But it was a finger, it was what you could give.


There you will have the truth.

If afterwards the truth of your work is cut off

Know you did your best to be better

In that case, it's better, even with love,

Get the lie out of the way

Because this is the best medicine.

Captain


I thought you were the captain

From a drifting boat

But after all you are the castaway with heart.

Your hand that sails forever

In sunken dreams written

In sheets that the sea took with it

So that sad and disillusioned eyes

They couldn't cry any more dyed salt.


At sea you smile, captain of yourself

King of thyself, emperor of wild sea

On sea breezes and above all wilderness

Where monsters lurked in your path

You found your crown in the abyss

And your throne of crystal clear water in pain

Because beyond pain there is love.

A love that no one can kill you.

Profane, steal, deceive, obfuscate or even eviscerate.


Perfect muse


By the voice of the muse that inspired me

to write poems about the world

that she made me invent, because she so ordered

it's up to me, imperfect poet, to write

about your body and your lips

who gently kiss my face.


Knowing that in the moonlight,

your silhouette shines in splendor

not looking brings me pain

and loving her brings me her flavor.


Sea mermaid, extended

just for me, green eyes

a light that illuminates,

golden and brown scented hair

a pure breeze in my ocean

in which I get lost but I'm happy.


I'm an apprentice

I learn the words with you

in your voice of pure harmony

for the rest, from the world I disconnect

I look at your shiny body in fantasy

for me it is pure joy.


perfect chest

hill of a beautiful city

maybe Maria Lisboa your name

you embrace the sea with your arms.


Thin and flat belly

the beginning of your hips

a guitar that cries in Fado.

legs and feet, I see the columns

main ones you support

the weight of being the Muse of Portugal,

And bathe in the waters of the Tagus

your true home.


Beggar


I was never a beggar

I didn't even ask for alms

In point of view in detail

From the disturber of kills and skins,

In a lame and deaf way,

Society lacks the crutch of culture,

the real beggar who clears his head

To the webs of manipulation


I never asked for alms

I just stole lyrics from the library

To put them in order.

Though crude, they had order.

And wanted the muse, that order

As messed up as I am

I mess up myself

and I order and return to disorder.


And society won't even arrive

To the glorious fullness of disorder

Of having a thousand thoughts

To order.


Society has an order

just be sorted

With small wages

Disorganized in small numbers

and such big problems.


My book saved me today

From the bombardment of insults

My culture saved me

The life that is rightfully mine

My book saved my freedom

My book calmed down and embraced

My cry that wanted to scream

The lyrics scream my cry, now.

The words in this book are my voice now.

I am them and they are my being,

No matter what happens, hurt what it hurts.


My book got me where I am today

My book protected me

From the idiocy of the woman in front

who talks through his elbows

that weaves skeins

And sews the jacket to the third parties.


My book saved my culture,

my language and memory

of the lyrics that play with me

Like simple, mischievous children.

I remember my childhood

For the lyrics of my book

They saved my memory and happiness.