I have a problem

 

I have a problem .

No, not like a drinking problem,

No, not tying a tube around my arm,

And sticking a needle in the puffiest vain,

Letting the drugs take away my pain.

No. It’s not like that.

It’s so much more..

My problem is, is that I care too much.

I say sorry a million times a day.

If I had a nickel for every time I

Say sorry, I’d be Warren Buffet.

I say sorry to the people who bump into

ME in the hallway.

I care so much, that if someone is mad,

I think they’re mad at me.

    So I investigate them until they tell me it’s not me,

  When I just made them even more mad by annoying the

Hell out of them.

My syndrome,

  Is the Care Bear syndrome.

Someone tells me to let something go,

  And I clutch onto it like a white girl with Pumpkin Spice.

So why do I care this much?

I don’t even know for myself.

   Oh my gosh, don’t take me somewhere to eat,

    Because I’ll try to pay for you without asking.

    Don’t buy me something, because I then feel

         Like I owe you, like some with the IRS.

       But I don’t evade my dues,

      Unlike someone we know very well…

AHEM TRUMP.

Like I said, what’s trumping me,

Is my syndrome.

My therapist is even taking time to explain to me what it is.

    So yes, I am a Care Bear.

    Fight me.

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741