Insanity: The Doctor

THE DOCTOR
Out of options,
Fed up with this mind boggler,
A therapist I speak to.
A few days later,
In his office I am in.
He sits in a leather chair,
Glasses,
Smoking a pipe,
With a smoking jacket and a glass of Brandy.
He asks me why I am here,
In his office he means.
I tell him if my dreams,
The visions I have seen.
I tell in great detail.
The scribbling of words,
On paper is the only sound.
He asks me why I am here,
In the asylum he means.
I tell him that people say I am mad,
The master of insanity.
A chuckle,
Another one.
Another one,
He produces.
Why laugh?
Nothing is funny.
Nothing to laugh at.
He takes a sip of Brandy,
An inhale of tobacco,
A wave of his hand,
And I am out of his office.
I still hear him laugh like a mad man.