white coat wearing bearded man

His metaphysical thoughts feel like a horizontal notch,
Dragged down. Wavering in the wind held by his belt. Savouring
his thoughts. Thoughts from last night. And the night before.

Blasphemical, Racist, Outrageous and sometimes even Sexist questions
roll around in his mind.
Feels like he's been locked up in cages all his life.
Wondering if he's wrong for thinking this way.
Maybe sleep and see what new comes with the new day.

Twisitng. Turning. Hovering over various metal objects. Sharp objects.
Thinking too much. What will the next subject to enter his brain?
Why now? Why at this time? Why on his dime? The shrink looks at him.
The prognosis looks pretty dim.


The chap walks about. Back and forth. With the clout that most of these
quacks have.
With no facts or tact the white coat wearing bearded man is all in dismay.
He says it's OK and will deal with it another day.