With her passport in one pocket, bipolar in the other
Booked a one-way ticket to Fuertaventura, leaving her children behind
Careful now, mother!
Forty eight when she admitted herself in
Kettle steam coming from her ears
Face full of tears
Hour after hour spent in The Grattan Ward
While thinking about drinking ice cold beers on the ocean front – ah, there’s that smile!
Something, she couldn’t quite place it, not allowing for things to happen
Nurses with their room-checks so damn blunt
Discharged herself on the 5th, meeting with her husband at the train station
Feeling something that she hadn’t felt in a long time, she looked at her husband, thanking him sincerely for making things happen all over again for her
Soon her medication would hit the bin
Her voice no longer coming out in an all too typified slur
Fuertaventura was fantastic, a place like no other
She called her children, telling them how happy she was
Although still bothered from time to time by the awfully recurring bipolar
She stayed on the right track… the absolute best in a long line of mothers
