this poem is dedicated to a friend of mine who got sick in schizophrenia 22 years ego and he is still fighting the disease. He loves to talk and he talks a lot. The listener can pick up very worthy stories and an explanation about his becoming schizophrenic among all so called rubbish he says.
His first fear
was another awful experience
of our wild world that merged
with mother´s fear
and was engraved on his little brain.
His first pain
was another frightful experience
of external world that felt as
a hard kick on mom´s stomach.
His first worry
was mom´s worry
when she, at nights,
in her loneliness cried like rain
and sang for him cadle ballad
and told hem her tales.
Mother´s tales
were about hard day´s sorrow
about sad day´s loneliness
Mohter´s tales
were stories about days in
fear and pain.
days when she had no one
to talk to.
Mother´s tales
were stories about a fight,
fighting for staying alive
and going on living.
The first memory
was memories of a fight
memories of not giving up
memories of hope
The first memory
was mother´s love.