Mental health sonnet
Makes me think that ...
Sick, what do mean, are you taking the piss out of me?
Fuck off, why are you worried, really, how can that be?
I’m straight, all fine, bring on the next challenge for me.
Thirty years in, going strong, paid the piper an upfront fee.
Actually, the scars I carry are starting to weigh me down.
There are times I wear a nappy, I used to wear the crown.
Times the pastiche of life tricks me and I actually believe.
Times pride camouflages the degree to which I grieve.
Loss of ideal, loss of focus, loss of power, loss of wealth.
Passage of life, normal stuff, just shit, not mental health.
Like a flag on the seashore, buffeted by conflicting winds.
Just a tune, played instrumental, hoping someone sings.
Don’t worry about me, I’m just fighting through the fuzz.
No I don’t need help, but think I know someone that does.
As we move through the second decade of the twenty first century mental health in society and more particularly in work continues to border on a taboo, a stigma, a mental weakness that can stain a CV for long time if not forever. Curiously pace and pressure in contemporary organisations are the architects of the mental health issues it seemingly continues to despise.Con
It's easy to join our team of readers. Check out this video to see how.
It could be you. Join our team of readers.
If you would like to make a recording of this poem, click here to find out how.
More people are writing and thinking about work-based poetry. Does this poem make you think of anything? Send your thoughts to email@example.com.
Send a poem you've written or one you like and we'll share it with other WorkInWords readers.