Two hundred seventeen,
Layers peeled away,
We started out,
With fear and doubt,
Persistence won the day,
We built rapport,
And so much more,
I had a lot to say,
Two hundred seventeen,
Still peeling come what may.
Two hundred seventeen,
Voices in the dark,
I ventured in,
We did begin,
So truth could find its mark,
For patience knew,
As knowledge grew,
My words would find their spark,
Two hundred seventeen,
Raw voices set to bark.
Two hundred seventeen,
Traumas to be healed,
We found a way,
To slow decay,
And face what was revealed,
And in our time,
We harnessed rhyme,
So anguish could be sealed,
Two hundred seventeen,
My traumas slowly yield.
Two hundred seventeen,
Moods to mark the day,
My head’s kaput,
With dream’s afoot,
But nature lights the way,
There’s no abyss,
Nor do I miss,
The doorway to foray,
Two hundred seventeen,
My moods are nature’s clay.
Two hundred seventeen,
Poems left to write,
With every verse,
I shed this curse,
Where narcissist’s delight,
No longer prey,
I’ll have my say,
When bark returns to bite,
Two hundred seventeen,
Each poem filled with might.
Two hundred seventeen,
Thank you’s to reward,
If not for you,
I’d still be blue,
And falling on my sword,
But now I find,
I have a mind,
That plays an epic chord,
Two hundred seventeen,
So grateful you’re aboard.
© The Complicated Bunny – 03 Jul 2022
This poem was written for my clinical psychologist, J.B., as a thank you and also a celebration of all the epic work we have done together in therapy.
The Complicated Bunny 