The Trial of the Crisis Team
‘I’m suicidal.’ Hesitantly, I said
‘I might need a hospital bed.’
The crisis team’s advice to me:
Try a Warm Bath and a Hot Cup of Tea.’
I tried again. I said to them,
I don’t need hot tea or a warm bubble bath’
They looked annoyed and snapped at me,
‘That’s your responsibility’
I pleaded with them: ‘I’m at a loss.
I really can’t cope. Please don’t be cross.’
They rolled their eyes and said (with a bored sigh)
‘It’s up to you. You have to try’
I tried again – now I was crying –
‘I try so hard… I’m really not lying.
Now and then I need a hand
I need you to understand. Please.’
I spoke through the tears, spoke of my fears,
‘I’m scared I’m going to die’
I’ve tried. I’ve tried. I’ve tried for years.
Please help me. Don’t let me die.’
‘That’s your problem. You are a trial.
You display a ‘difficult’ personality style
And nothing we do will help you cope.
For people like you there is no hope.’
They cracked their knuckles and, scoffing, said
‘If you really meant it, you’d already be dead.’
I flinched away from their unbidden fury,
and cried; ‘I don’t need a Judge and a Jury.
Clearly to you I’m an unwanted chore.
Sometimes I don’t cope. That’s not breaking the law.’
I’ve presented the case and now that you’ve heard it,
Reader, I leave you to consider the verdict.
By PDintheBin member
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