Where I Can’t Smile

The therapeutic child asks me
What it is that turns us back
This pharma baby lecturing on progress
Questions my lack of forward movement
This pink pill infant listing ills abounding
Despite every cutting edge effort
Imagine this taker of two toddler accusing me
Of not sticking to the holy regimen
Oh call me in the morning neonate of little faith
Tsk-tsk me and insinuate I could deceive you
So laughable when we think about it
If his concoctions have me swaying
In some humorous space
Though much more likely in a crying place