There Comes a Time

It began when I was 13 years old,

My sister was calling me pus face,

Moon head, Mr. mini golf course,

I had chronic acne you see,

And I didn’t know how to deal with it,

I couldn’t answer back,

And I’d throw tantrums in frustration.

She was cruel, my little sister,

Both my parents were busy working,

And at school I wasn’t doing very well,

So my parents got me a psychologist,

I was found to be on the autistic spectrum,

And I went into programs, to help me cope,

And when my carers went deeper,

I was found to be depressed,

And a platoon of professionals grew

Around me to support me,

And when they went deeper

I was found to be bi-polar,

And they put me on a drugs program,

I was still seeing my psychologist,

It had been fifteen years by then,

My parents paid for me, they were both

Still working.

My sister got happily married

Ended up with a couple of kids,

She didn’t need to work,

Her husband owned an electrical business,

They’d go overseas for holidays every year.

I was living at home,

And I was put on a disability pension,

I lived with my parents, still working,

For another twenty or so years,

Then they died in a car crash.

I was grief stricken,

And my sister contested the will,

I got nothing,

My psychologist couldn’t see me anymore,

Suggested I go into the public health system,

Which I do, and it’s been OK,

I’ve been homeless for two years,

And I can go to the local  Drop-in Centre anytime.

 

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