Social science

I have a magic oyster card

This is my personal guard

Travelling from place to place

London is a real maze


Today I ended up in a pub cute

Couldn’t stay there I mute

One person to another went

Just needed myself to vent


One said go away

Couldn’t away I stay

Back I roamed

Police she phoned


I was telling truth

It wasn’t smooth

I told I have a magic wand

Which has with me a bond


She didn’t believe me

Really truely truely truely

It wasn’t my fault

So I thought


I’ve here and there travelled

In that pub my way me led

Ended up in police station

There took me my fashion


That’s my passion to see

What people can do with me

That’s social science just

To shake off the rust



I have been told I am nice

Nobody knows I have a vice

I don’t believe anybody

Cause harming my body


Am not able to fight sometimes

I am feeble, it’s not at all fine

Roller coaster is my soul

Up at night like an owl old


Thoughts come and go in my mind

A useful output I have to find

Writing here for others my poems own

Good actions of someone else sown


What to yourself you do

you do to others, too




How to explain

What’s my domain

On my own over here sitting

Ignorant faces around seeing


They minding their own business

While my emotions in pieces

What is behind those masks?

Are they thinking about their tasks?


That’s what here clashes

My sight around in flashes

My area my inner

I am a sinner


My mouth is open wide

Ready not to hide

I do not really care

That listen they don’t dare


I don’t blame their inner

I am the only sinner


Teasing hearts bound to each other

They not there forever to smother

Hands in hands, fingers linked

So overwhelmed, eyes blinked


All good, but something missing

Mistrust underneath is hissing

Understanding down deep

Who gonna take a peek?


Realisation complex, true and

Vast. Not like wind-blown sand

A lot of work to be done

Even when the sun has gone


I know my face sturdy and cold

But a lot underneath I hold

Am not only one like that

Many this way in habitat


Storms mess deep down

Make faces to frown

Happiness disappears

The negative love smears


Understanding, understanding

Possible it is, I am singing



Wind blows in my ears

My eyes are in tears

I even don’t know the reason

Maybe this is the season


I cannot hear my flute

Only it can say toot

My fingers shaking

The sun is fading


Only hope has remained

That my love is not stained

Best good-will even

Won’t get things even


Only hope is mine

So is hope in shine

That happiness stays

I hope that what you say



Experiences are that count

I have not climbed that mount

Fourty my age however

Still learning to be clever


Easy come easy go

This isn’t way to grow

Experiences good or bad

Departure always sad


My head is in the clouds

My ears have not found

The point in what coming

This is crazy sounding


Happy though am I

That am so high

In my mood and deeds

Am ready to sow seeds


What a near miss…

What a near miss…


My comment

I just yesterday published here an article on the possibility of recovery from mental illness. After that, I read some other posts here, I became more knowledgeable in myself and what I should have done better.

I realised what people can go through, similar to me. Mostly, they want to be helped, but help is not out there or is not in a right format…. This is the main reason they keep on struggling.

Things are much deeper than they seem, nothing cannot be taken by face-value. The reasons behind helplessness can be various. There is just needed a genuine interest in mentally ill people and what they are going through inside themselves.