Medication Time—Once Again

Every time. I pull up to my Therapist’s office, there seems to be a young girl, waiting to shoot a smile in my direction.

I think of her future and mine.

I think of the reasons behind our smiles.

I think of my age, 32–her’s, likely, merely 12.

She smiles; I smile back. But I have the knowledge of what might be next to come.

For her; For me.

She is the future. But the future is undecided.

America:“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”

Photo Credit: Lady Liberty Weeps by phyteclub Lady Liberty Weeps by phyteclub

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