Fairytale Of Fear - Poem by Chris Tusa
Another tornado warning, power lines
down, the same ring around the rosy.
But there’s no pocketful of posies
for this black plague in my brain.
I am like one of those little pigs,
struck dumb with post-traumatic stress,
waiting for my house to be blown in.
While the storm outside huffs and puffs,
I forget the King’s horses,
the King’s men, wait for the Prozac
to put me back together again.
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