I am the nameless, faceless one

You seek to avoid

You see me coming down the street

And look down or walk the other way

Sometimes I mutter to myself

For there is no one else to listen or who cares

When I stand behind you in the checkout line

You hold your breath

It’s been…I don’t know how long

Since I’ve had a warm shower or put on clean clothes

Of course I know I stink

Thankfully after a while I became immune to the smell

Shame should be my name

Would it be better if I had never been born

My family doesn’t even know

If I’m dead or alive

There’s no means to contact me

No phone to pick up or place to drop by

Would they even recognize me

If they passed me on the street

Society thought they did good

In giving me the right to choose

Take my medication

Or be locked up for my own good

Do tell…how can someone not in their right mind

Make a rational decision

Even though you pass me by

With nary a look or a smile sent my way

No matter how hard you try to pretend I’m not…

I am here

By Susan Bunts

September 17, 2008