I'm breaking at the fringes, I'm looking for cure,
To get rid of the symptoms, I'll therapy endure.
All I can hope for realistically, is to turn hysterical misery,
Into common unhappiness - life beyond that is a mystery.
I want to grow at the seams, you need to help me thrive,
Be my guide, be my mentor, you can make me come alive.
As I replace the doomsday blinkers, with rose-tinted glass,
Help me achieve worldly success, then label all that a farce.
Enough of trying to fit in, when I'm a poem, why be prose?
As my counsellor, please don't sermon, just draw me close.
There's magic in presence, don't try your antics, just be there,
Instead of growth or healing, just let me be, if you care.
Therapist, coach, counselor, you need to be human first,
Meet me halfway before judging, if I'm at my best or worst.
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