The Whine Of Bad Habits Poem by Richard Provencher

My needs were met, a great sleep to renew
strength and overcome yesterday's
demands for my attention; went shopping
and found a stranger, now my friend -

he met me in the aisle between pop cans
and cereals of every sugary content:
"I'm depressed, " he said.

"No job, lost my wallet, crying like a baby.
Me a grown adult sitting here on the floor
as if I'm giving up - - guess I am."

"What are you going to do about it, " I asked.

"First, I'm going to scream, " he said. "So
people will understand the pain I am in."

"I feel like ripping the stars from the sky;
and tear up all trees so no one will be
happy like I used to be."

"Then you will no longer wish upon a star,
nor allow someone's childhood to climb
a tree, or watch squirrels prepare for winter"
I said, placing my arm on his shoulder.

We talked and prayed awhile before he got
to his feet on his own. Then it was my turn to
get up and be on my way, and -
left him with a smile of hope on his face.