Diagnosed ChildA Poem by Hell in a Hip FlaskDiagnosed Child ‘Well what’s the
point of taking him, he’ll just be on his iPod for the whole thing’ ‘Can you at least
smile for the photo?’ ‘Stop mumbling!’ ‘You alright mate?
You sure you don’t wanna dance?’ ‘Come on there’s
loads of girls here!’ ‘Come on stop being
so miserable’ ‘Just so you know you
can always come talk to me after class if there’s anything you need to talk
about?’ ‘It might sound weird
but you may want try Pilates if you’re feeling down, it really helped me out’ ‘Listen I’ve been
talking to your form tutor and we both think you should see the counsellor’ ‘Let’s see so in your
evaluation chart you rated your chin 1 out of 5, why did you feel like you had
to score it so low?’ ‘Don’t worry about
the scars they will go down and if you want to you can get rid of them when
you’re older with plastic surgery’ ‘Well it seems you’re
dealing with it really well, I’m just gonna go over your answers one more time
and then you can go, okay?’ ‘Did you have to go to the counsellor’ ‘What did he say?’ ‘What’s wrong with you?’ ‘Can we help you?’ Fine whatever’ © 2017 Hell in a Hip FlaskFeatured Review
Reviews
|
StatsAuthorHell in a Hip FlaskMoscow, IDAboutI’m a new writer, I enjoy writing short essays, but would love feedback on anything and everything. Don’t be afraid to tear into my work, it will be appreciated more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|