Through moral support, I have found
common ground among the less fortunate.
A space where I have surround
my thoughts, my feelings, and every single argument.
Group therapy: an excuse.
An escape from the hell,
a safeheaven away from the abuse.
A shared room with strangers, each with stories to tell.
I was the diplomatic, the listener.
Through their pain I sympathize.
Taking heed in their problems in particular,
hoping the damage to minimize.
We've come from the same broken branch,
some have it worse than what their mouth tells.
Others offered their advice, from their hearts it hatch,
to a broken soul who could have been themselves.
One by one, we speak with non-disclosure
with nothing but the truth,
hoping for the pain to one day be over.
Or at least pray for the landing to be smooth.
After each section we remember our purpose,
as the worries sweep into our previous mantra momentarily:
"We matter. We won't let anything disturb us."
That is the way it goes, in group therapy.
