Wednesday, March 13, 2013


"Anything can happen," he happily said
as visions of angels danced in his head
and aliens in a gold and sliver ship
landed as clowns tumble and skip
past all his broken dreams tossed
while his childhood teddy bossed
all the perfect dreams he once held
and lost when his mind melted.

Me? I just stood there and hoped
he would understand and not mope
when we adjusted his meds
to fix the problems in his head
even though he laughed and beamed
when he forgot the pills blue and green.
Not my job to make him happy, you see.
I'm his doctor; I give pills and take my fee.

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