MusingsPoetry

Mental Health

Grab that pen, it’s your sword,
Pace up and down that little yard
Simultaneously make your limb muscles weep.
Hold that paper, explore you brain deeply
Release the bitter memories that don’t tarry
Involve your lacrymal glands, let the tears emanate
Let the chorda tympani relay the sensations to the brain
Taste the bitter salt, feel the acrimony.
Let your entire trunk quake and shudder.
Throw the damn paper for the flames to devour.
Because wisdom uttered,
“The tears, they are medicine
For the fragile mental health.”

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