My Therapy

 

With a broken heart,

When life gets to hard to stand,

I pop no pills

I lay on no couches

No my therapy

isn’t found with a credit card,

Or in the bottom of a pint of

Rocky road.

 

My therapy is in the

Fresh, blank sheet of paper,

the stroke of my pen,

forming each letter

To each word

Finding the right phrase

And flow to my thoughts

Daydreams, the right flow

To my life.

Writing is my therapy.