Therapy Bits

I never seem to get it right

They say they care for me

Yet all I hear are rigid rules

Of how I ought to be

They issue lists of right and wrong

What’s good and what is bad

They want me to stay cheerful

Cant bear to see me sad

I’m not allowed to express my views

Don’t contradict, its rude

Your far too young to understand

Be quiet and eat your food

They tell me how I ought to dress

So as to match their dream

And how to think, look, act and speak

No wonder I could scream

But screaming’s not acceptable

I’m not supposed to feel

It seems they’d rather have a doll

Cute, passive and unreal

A puppet to manipulate

Compliant, mute and sweet

A doll who will not rock the boat

But doll’s don’t have to eat