The Counsilor

A twisted poem about a visit to a misunderstood girl who pays a visit to a counsilor.

Last night I dreamed a dream

I thought to tell my mother

I told her under the condition

She wouldn't tell another

So smiling she promised

And I told her my dream

I guess it must have scared her

Because she began to scream

She said it was a nightmare

And that I needed help

So on the phone she called a counsilor

And through her strangled yelps

She set up an appointment

The twenty-fifth of May

She said that's fine because it was

Just ten short days away

The time it passed so slowly

And as it passed us by

My mother stayed away from me

Though I really don't know why

Well then I came to meet him

This counsilor she'd called

He led me to his office

Down a long confusing hall

I sat down as he bid me

And like a private eye

He asked me many questions

Though his final one was why

I'd told him all my secrets

The twisted things I saw

How chaos painted pictures

In my mind no one could draw

I told him of the screaming

Of the drawn out tortured cries

That my heart whispered to me

These were my sweet lullaby's

And then he ran out crying

I felt a saddened smile

Spreading then across my face

I'd known it all the while

They all will think I'm crazy

That I'm only spouting lies

They'll never once believe

I see their future, their demise

Author's Note

This one was a strange one that came to mind while I was in trig and I heard someone talking about if one of my classmates went to see a psychiatrist, the psychiatrist would probably run out screaming. so, what'd you think?