In the depths of the hood, a darkness resides,
Where mental illness silently hides.
A symphony of whispers, haunting the streets,
An invisible battle, where pain discreetly meets.

In a world of concrete walls, and shadows cast,
Lives unraveling, memories fading fast.
A symphony of broken hearts, beating out of tune,
As minds collide, lost in the depth of their own cocoon.

Depression prowls like a predator, waiting to consume,
Sadness suffocates hope, leaving empty rooms.
Anxiety dances, its rhythm erratic and wild,
Choking on panic, like a frightened child.

Bipolar swings, a pendulum's sway,
Between euphoria's high and darkness's gray.
Schizophrenia paints illusions on the wall,
A kaleidoscope of voices, a never-ending call.

Yet amidst the chaos, a glimmer of light,
Supportive souls emerging, shining so bright.
Strong hearts filled with empathy and care,
Lending a helping hand, showing they're there.

Therapists and counselors, healers of the mind,
Guiding fractured souls, bringing peace they find.
Medications and treatments, a lifeline they provide,
Breaking the chains of stigma, casting it aside.

For in the hood a battle is fought every day,
Against mental illness, they won't let it stay.
With compassion and understanding, they strive,
To rebuild broken spirits, and help them to thrive.

So let us remember, in the depths of every hood,
Lies resilience and strength, misunderstood.
For mental illness may try to hold them back,
But in unity and love, they will never crack.