What’s the point of counseling.

When it doesn’t mean a thing…

Sure there’s progress,

And lots of suggest,

She rejects most of what I bring.

Sensitive to tone of voice,

I get talked to with her petard hoist…

Like Mom had–

Any emotion is bad–

She dislikes my looking away choice.

She explains her work since college,

Claiming (of me) secret knowledge…

She won’t divulge—

Battle of the Bulge–

Of which I must acknowledge!

If I’m upset–she claims me rude—

Doesn’t like my sarcastic mood…

Becomes “lecture time”

When I cross the fine line,

She dislikes my attitude!

I guess–she says it’s bigger–

I respond as to authority figures…

All my life

Including the wife,

“I could change if I want to”—that FIGURES!

I forgot yesterday–one of two,

Strikes until I’m through….

The first try was three,

Now closed to me,

And certain things I hesitate to do.

In concrete apparently I’m set,

If I don’t try her way it’s a “NYET”…

All this time

The fault is mine,

“It must be something he ‘et’…!” 😀

Medicine, lockup, counseling–

Two attempts resolutions to bring…

The only clue

Is socialization to do,

I’m way too good isolating!

–Jonathan Caswell

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