PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

At the Psychiatrists.

I was the first to arrive; my appointment was for eight thirty in the morning. Sitting in the chair rather bored I looked down at my feet, one red sock, one blue. I am pleased that I did not take those black socks; I hate black I think it covers up ones feet if they are dirty; but they do not enhance one’s feet. I have nice feet. They take me everywhere I want to go, sometimes to places where I should never have gone. But I have always allowed my feet to be independent no binding them for me, if they want to go they will.

The door opened and in popped that charming young nurse, with her lovely red hair and always a twinkle in her eye. Smiling she greeted me with her usual smile and a “Glad to see you Mr. Shaw How are you today?” Not like others that ask how are we today. I can only answer for myself how we are is beyond my scope.

The psychiatrist Doctor Codswallop entered the room. An elderly man that always listens to whatever one tells him. He is a chain smoker and one cigarette after the other burns away causing his hands to be stained a deep yellow brown with nicotine. He makes one note after the other.

I must admit that I have told him no end of stupid lies about what I see and of what I do; the best part are my dreams. Not really my dreams but the dreams my fantasy tells me to let him have. I am sure that one day he will write a best seller with my dreams interwoven into a very complicated story of my imaginative worlds. The patience of this man is phenomenal he listens, smokes and makes notes, My act in his office is as thick as a staple of large thick books and gets bigger and bigger each time that I see him.

At the end of each session he walks over to a shelf and takes from a large glass jar a lollipop. A bright red lollipop this he gives to me with a smile and the words, “ You were a good boy today this is for you. Come again any time that you feel the need to talk to someone.” I leave the room and on passing the red haired young lady I make a bow and hand her the red lollipops I feel that she has earned them working for a chain smoker that makes piles of notes and cannot make up his mind to tell me to leave him in peace he has other patients that really need a head shrink not someone like me that lives in a world of his own making. I am happy in this my world.

Why shouldn’t I be happy, I have the Fairies, the Queen of all the Fairies, Leprechauns, Pixies, imps and others and all of the wild life to keep me company and be my friends why should I need a psychiatrist? It is his other patients that I feel sorry for  I hope he can help them or at least tell them about my own make believe world.