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Friday, May 20, 2011

The Psychologist

The psychologist sat in  his office chair
he was reading todays headlines, the sight wasn't rare.
While reading he noticed an excerpt that caught his eye,
something like this he normally would pass right by.
On the line was a fellow who would meet a tragic downfall,
he kept reading and reading remaining enthralled,
the most awesome of tales this page did unfold
A story of a child and mother butcher it had told.

Robert Gray was the name on the line quite familiar,
was all the psychologist had in his mind running,
so many footsteps heard, it could have been a caterpillar.
The psychologist put it down his mind was still burning
his phone buzzed in, "Doctor you have a patient."
The secretary's voice said bright and cheerful,
while the good doctor moved the seat most adjacent
the patient walked in wide eyed and almost fearful.

"Listen to me doctor I think I have problems
I hear voices, not in my head, on the outside, there's a difference
people tell me what to do all the time and I listen
don't talk back and comply even with all the disdain."
"Why is that a problem? That doesn't seem so bad,
When people tell you what to do does it make you mad?"

Not at all, made things simple my mom always told me,
except now people tell me what to do and how to be,
I give them a smile and start to lose my memory..
I come to, hours later in my one bedroom apartment
happy as a clam with a wooden dock penchant.

"So you have no memory of what happened after?"
asked the psychologist bored staring at the rafters.
"No, not at all." Said he, biting his nails like biting on bread
"OK here's what you do, write down what they said
right before you blackout, and stop biting your nails like bread."
As he looked at the man a wide smile on his face had spread.


  1. Haha not at all, read the last two stanzas and it should explain it.

  2. hahahaha I found it funny. Followed (don't worry, not smiling)

  3. Very, very nice read. Following.