Twenty Two Minutes

"**** depression
only encourages confusion...
Fragmentises the mind
creating veils and illusions..."

His words pass as I dream
of the Chill Renovator
While he state ***** my mind
with his verbal *******
And so haphazard he goes
on his quest to get in
But the truth he'd not know
where to ******* begin

So I smile nod and shake
in all the right places
As he stereotypes me
with the other nut cases
While if only he knew
my only depression
is the twenty two minutes
that remain of his session

As I sly watch the clock
as it slowly ticks down
Each synchronised movement
taking aim at my frown
His eyes falsely light up
at the sight of my smile
A misled inner faith
in professional guile

So I let him rant on
with his Freudian theories
And soft bat his torrent
of invasive queries
Till finally he tells me
He'll see me next week
and I scratch
in my diary...
Date with the

Freak...


©HaroldRizla