One Path to Therapy…

 

She travels to the cupboard and finds no pills to spare.

Upstairs then she would wander and find there naught but stair.

So into then the kitchen for an herbal remedy,

But there again, no tincture that could ever comfort she.

To the apothecary, to the druggist she marched fast.

Could they perhaps procure for her the cure she sought at last?

Oh no! The store was closed and Oh calamity felt near,

For fight the storm she could not do that grew between each ear.

The therapists, she’d heard said, for a dollar or an alm,

Could aid her in this better than what she took from her palm.

Now she is there driven for her mounting mental ills,

As all to be found anywhere are spent bottles of pills.

HS 12.23.2016

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s