This poem is for Bill who said to write a poem last night.
Feelings, Ouch, Ouch, Feelings
I know people are concerned.
I know they really care.
But when people come and ask me
how I am feeling,
please don’t stare.
That question hangs above my
head like a black thunder cloud
and then it breaks with a loud clap
and all the tears pour out.
The problem is it is alright to smile
at work and maybe indulge in a laugh
but howling is not allowed.
So please don’t ask me how I am.
I don’t want to be soaked
by that storm cloud.
psst. It is nice you care though. Thanks.