The Room

This is our counselor's room - a strange, but wonderful place we've come to call our home.
We've been here almost every week, for seldom do we roam.
There's soothing music in the waiting room to cover up sad or angry cries.
That sometimes escape the therapists' rooms, evidence of desperate and broken lives.


The receptionist is sweet, the walls are painted pink, it's a cheery atmosphere at first glance.
But sitting in the chairs are weary worn lives, waiting to give the room a chance.
In the corner sits a sullen and embarrassed man, obviously coerced there by his teary-eyed wife.
And by the door slinks a lanky teenager, wondering why in his life there's such strife.


We look on with compassion, for we were once that couple, and our son was that teenage boy.
But we swallowed our pride, reached out for help, and marched our family through the door.
Inside the room, was a true miracle from God, although it took much time.
For miracles take work, a commitment to the room, and openness of one's lifetime.


There were some days, the room seemed not to work, and we wondered, "What's the use?"
But we stuck to our commitment, our family was worth it, we gave this place a chance to produce
A miracle for us, a strong bond of devotion, that eventually flowed to each member.
No regrets for the money or the time that was spent, for our love was wondrously remembered.


This room holds many memories, both good and bad, like the news that changed our lives forever.
One day my husband, sadly stared at the floor and confessed our vows he'd severed.
But this is also the room, seven months later, we held hands and our marriage vows renewed.
So as you can see, for those who give it a chance, the room is tried and true.


There's a moral to this story, you see my fine friend, if you're sick - search out a cure.
Don't live with regrets, hurting the dear ones you love, for at death remorse will be sure.