by Jen Hunt
Lord, I entered this field
Because I wanted to help people
And find I am
Drowning in forms
Tidy boxes I must fill
To justify my help
To those who hold the purse strings
Therapists and paperwork
Make strange bedfellows
If I am not mindful
These forms might
Lock clients
In stigmas
And block
My weary heart
From truly seeing those I see
As I type
Remind me of the people
For whom these fields exist
That the unseen boxes “Heard”
Or “Known”
Or “Loved”
Be not left barren
On their forms
