Transitional Home Poem by Matthew Foor

Flourescent halos
Seem sterilizing to me

Flooding every hidden shadow
Reminding me of a hospital
Lack the smell of chemicals

No patients ringing their call buttons
No nurses to and fro

Albeit we too can be seen as patients
Or clients as THEY would say

Our treatment team
Our staff
The OVERWATCH

Responsible for our everyday lives

Holding 9 sets of hands

Training us
Teaching us
How to survive

Giving to us the life skills we need
Weaning us off of bad habits

They map our days like a tourists agenda
Badinage at the minimum

Abounding suggestions
A plentitude of 'How-Tos'
A plethora of emotions

THEY call this a transitional home
(Dare not say group home)

Get in and get out
This is made very clear

THIS is a transitional home