They Must Be Neurotic Poem by James McLain

There was another long sigh then practiced silence
one girl talking,
her hand never stopping.
She must be neurotic.
Father gave you a hint the other day.
It is deep very well,
he murmured to himself but
being over heard by the others
their moving difficulties.
Yes, there are even greater difficulties
to over come, over passed.
As he was passing out of from one
tunnel another appeared
then after the hotel he came to a sudden halt.
His car had drawn up in front of the door.
In it was one daughter, standing beside him
driving him further away.
Talking honestly to her about her father.