We walk among you fearfully,
Hoping our illness you can’t see.
We wrestle our demons silently
Struggling to be a part of your community.
We continually hope and pray,
That today will be a better day.
Mental Illness is our epitaph,
But you don’t want to talk about that.
So we gather in therapy,
Hoping for a time we’ll be free.
We work day in and day out,
To understand what our illness is about.
Though you would like us to go away,
With resolve we’re here to stay.
Our lives you think are rotten,
We are The Forgotten.
Recovery is our ultimate goal,
To be free and to be whole.
So ignore us; try you may.
We are not going away.
Understanding is all we ask,
Is that such a difficult task?