Crouching Tiger Sitting Duck Poem by Sheldon Carruthers

I was just a sitting duck
Running out of luck
Time fore-spent
Every sucker bent
On making my life suck

I was just a sitting duck
Oh how to shut out the pain that’s driving me insane-
The doctor’s indifference, so nonchalant and cool,
He loved his work, he did not stop to think he was simply
A tiresome middle class twerp
He played God and I the fool

No concept of racism, just a foreign word, something of which he had not heard
“Surely it’s all in your mind”, a symptom, a sign, an illness of the mental kind and to my failure he had resigned.

What purpose had he to see the truth
He did not need know proof - his superior intellect a character aloof
He inked his pen with subtle charm then sent me to the funny farm
And thus the limitation of his reason led to an ugly treason
Alas, although I’m sure, it was the beginning of duck hunting season