Frank Johnson

It hurts to see you looking so depressed.
So depressed you looking to see it hurts.
The worst thing is I don’t know what’s the best.
What’s the best I don’t know thing is the worst
way to help put your troubled mind at rest.
At rest your troubled mind to help put way.
As you can see, I’m not a therapist,
A therapist I’m not, as you can see,
but maybe, by uttering such nonsense,
such nonsense, by uttering but maybe,
it may just coax a half smile to your lips,
to your lips a half smile just coax it may,
and then one day you’ll laugh, remembering this,
and say, Thank God you’re not a therapist.

Frank Johnson lives in Coventry, England. In addition to poetry, his interests include painting and learning Irish. More of his poetry can be found at ashortspell.com/francopomes-2

Career: postman; postal and telegraph officer; registrar of births, deaths and marriages; polytechnic/university administrator; interpreter and translator (from Czech and Portuguese); retired. Poetry publications: 2013: Boscombe Revolution; 2023: AUB International Poetry Competition, highly commended; Erbacce Press, ten poems, highly commended; 2024: Frogmore Papers, Swerve; 2025: Locofo Anti-Trump Anthology: Poems for Freedom; Wildfire Words; Waltham Forest Poetry Competition: 1st Prize for funny poem.

This poem appeared in What We Hold On To: Poems of Coping, Connection, and Carrying On — Winter 2026, published by The Chaos Section Poetry Project. We’ll be featuring each poem from the collection individually in the weeks ahead. You can read the full collection or download a free PDF of the chapbook here.