I never get mad, I get hostile,
I never feel sad, I'm depressed,
If I sew or knit and enjoy it a bit
I'm not handy, I'm merely depressed!



I never regret, I feel guilty,
And if I vacuum the hall
Wash the woodwork and such
And not mind it too much
Am I tidy? Compulsive is all.



If I can't choose a hat, I have conflicts,
With ambivalent feelings towards net,
I never get worried or nervous or hurried,
Anxiety!! That's what I get!



If I'm happy, I must be euphoric,
If I go to the Stork on the Ritz,
And have a good time, making puns or a rhyme
I'm a manic, or maybe a schiz!



If I tell you you're right, I'm submissive,
Repressing aggressiveness too,
If I disagree, I'm defensive, you see,
And projecting my symptoms on you.



I love you, but that's just transference,
With Oedipus rearing his head,
My breathing, asthmatic, is phychosomatic,
A fear of exclaiming, "Drop Dead!"



I'm not lonely, I'm just dependent,
My dog has no fleas, just a tick,
So, if I'm a cad, never mind, just be glad
That I'm not a stinker, I'm sick!





Author unknown