Life in turmoil, impending doom
being counseled by an alarm clock
in my room, its metallic voice
like robotic speak, signalled to
me that I was up the creek.
Addictive living is not pretty
filled with fear,and self pity.
Slumped down by rivers edge
wondering what is going on
then looming toward me is
a talking swan.
The talking swan counsels me
gently,saying I am sick,and
in need of help,get it quick.
Knelt there listening to counseling
swan,thinking shall I jump in
river, and just be gone?
Lying in bed, in drunken haze
radiator talking to me,giving out
heat and advice,please shut up
don't say it twice.
Called out for help, with lumps in throat
help did come by way of man with white coat.
"gently" placed in padded cell,is this
the doorway to living hell?
Warmest regards Michael.