Its Mental health,
Your minds not well,
Not quite as it should be,
Is that your diagnosis or your terminology.
You send me out,
Then bring me back,
Without knowing what’s entailed,
Then look at me with sympathy and claim the systems failed,
Who built the system,
Made the rules,
Who’s system lets us suffer,
“It wasn’t me”
“It’s not my fault “
I hear the words you mutter,
It wasn’t mine but here I am,
I need a path to follow,
I'm tired of being passed from pillar to post
With condolences of sorrow.
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 1:27 PM UTC
Its Mental health,
Your minds not well,
Not quite as it should be,
Is that your diagnosis or your terminology.
You send me out,
Then bring me back,
Without knowing what’s entailed,
Then look at me with sympathy and claim the systems failed,
Who built the system,
Made the rules,
Who’s system lets us suffer,
“It wasn’t me”
“It’s not my fault “
I hear the words you mutter,
It wasn’t mine but here I am,
I need a path to follow,
I'm tired of being passed from pillar to post
With condolences of sorrow.
Request permission to use this poem