I would like to have a word with whoever’s in charge of Feelings. 
I think I was given too many. 
Or perhaps it is just that I’m cycling through mine too rapidly, 
Unaware that any moment I could run out
And spend the rest of my life pleasantly numb.
“What happened to her?” they’ll whisper. 
“Oh, she’s fine,” they’ll say. “Ran through her Feelings too soon.” 
“Ah,” they’ll say, shaking their heads sympathetically. 
I’ll notice, but won’t particularly care. 

And while I’m waiting, I might as well ask
Is there a caseworker assigned to Nerves?
Mine seem twisted and tightly bound together.
I can barely remember a time when they weren’t,
But I could swear this wasn’t always the case.
If it’s not too much trouble,
Could someone take a look into my file?
Could someone let me know if this is how it’s supposed to be?

I don’t mean to be a bother, and I know it’s not my place,
But I don’t understand what happened at that meeting
Where it was decided that donuts are both delicious
and very bad for your health
and where it was decided that humans are smart enough to invent guns
and dumb enough to use them.
Where it was decided that some people should have enough money
and other people would not
And that everyone would care a lot about it
No matter who you are. 

I would like to propose an agenda
Where we revisit some of these issues
Is anyone hiring in the Department of Empathy?

Yes. I can wait.