Therapist (A Poem)
They sit in the waiting room
Waiting for the doctor to call their name.
Shoulder to shoulder
Sometimes dozens at a time.
Stress, anger issues, suicidal thoughts
Hoping the doctor will help them straighten out their minds,
help them connect the dots.
|Image courtesy of Pixabay|
Is everyone needing some sort of help the new norm?
Or, is it some sort of passing fad?
In any case, I realize
It's making me a little mad.
That I'm trying to raise children in a world
That has really become as bad as this.
Where so many struggle
And everyone seems to need a therapist.