This is for the shrinks.
Help they would
if they could,
but pre-canned words are impotent
and they simply didn't...
they didn't show me how to write on a page
or speak out my feelings too vent all my rage!
Sorry shrinks but your therapy is like milk
left out for an hour
turned sour
its only power
to make me more dour
and I'm sorry,
but if I'm something you never heard of
I'll never be cured of
being myself
and you can be assured
that your over-used words
they won't help.
They'll fail,
because that ship set sail
and it sank from the wind and the storm and the hail
that was in my own head,
and it made your words dead
but don't worry shrinks
I won't let them die yet
I flip them around like you'll never forget
Five Stages of Grief?
I'll flip that belief
and give you instead
my Five Stages of Relief
Step one, acceptance
because we start in submission
it drains us
detains us
destroys all volition
Step two, depression
because we need a clean slate
to let go of self-hate
and search in ourselves
for something great
Step three, bargaining
because now we have the chips
to cut a deal with our pain and co-exist
Step four, anger
because pain shouldn't exist at all!
a nonnegotiable wall, so tall
slowing us to a crawl!
It makes the tears swell
until sad
becomes mad
and we curse at our pain
and we scream and we yell!
Step five, denial
because that's when we see
that pain has no true power over you, over me
deny pain has real meaning and assert the light
light over dark ain't much of a fight
it's right and it's bright!
like a candle at night!
it's new found life!
So stride to deny all submission and strife
Cast out all sadness
all pain and all grief
and assert their replacements
release... and relief...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem