Member Poem

I open the door.

it has a slight creak to it.

he is there,

sitting,

in a shining office,

the woodwork with curves carved into it,

I can smell the hickory from the doorway.

Inside, a big leather couch grabs my sight from the rest of the scenery,

filled with down,

soft, squishy, comforting, yet cold,

like the hand of sin,

waiting for me.

The doctor welcomes me with an open hand

and tells me to lie down.

My midriff sinks into the squishy, cold leather, first.

Then my head hits the soft arm of the couch,

I look up at the ceiling with intricate swirls in the brass squares.

My mouth tastes like pennies from nerves,

and then I begin to speak.

¨Doc, I got a problem,¨ I start,

¨I’ve got this feeling in my gut,

it tells me what to do.

A voice in my mind

telling me what to do,

It haunts me if I don’t do what the voice says.

It is like an impulse.

And like an impulse,

it sticks around in my mind like glue,

nagging me.

I want it all,

from the candybar on the shelf of the drugstore,

just sitting there waiting for me,

willing me to take it,

because it knows I can.

To your wallet,

whispering to me,

to make sure that I know that it is there.

Tempting me.

The feeling of temptation always there,

in my heart.

The voices,

in my ears.

“I think that I know what you mean”, said the doc,

“Each and every one of us can feel it.

For we are only human.

And each and every one of us can hear it.

It tries to drown out all of the good voices and light,

And bring in dark.

One voice above the rest,

For it is, the yelp of greed.”