Poem: Priest

Who would’ve guessed,

They think I’m possessed.

From the ward, I got released,

For them now to call a priest

What’s wrong with me?

East is east,

And West is west.

But there’s nothing cultural about it.

I’m just depressed.

But once again,

Who would’ve guessed.

They think I’m possessed.

I was just a little stressed,

How did I get in this mess.

West is west,

And east is east.

I have an illness.

Please don’t call a priest.