Our Hamlets

I wrote this in my head at work, word for word. Let me know what you think.

<b>Our Hamlets</b>

When noble Freud descended to the pits
Of consciousness, with naught but sympathy
To guide, that maze somewhat beguiled his wits;
But ah, what high-astounding truths gleaned he!
<i>Not so!</i> our learned psychologists reply.
<i>Our tests show clearly, Freud was just a flake.</i>
<i>Our way works better far, who can deny?</i>
<i>We’ve made the process easier for your sake.</i>
I realize, now, our Hamlets are not dead:
For when their lives showed signs of tragedy,
Their parents simply put them on some med.
Voila! Hamlet becomes a comedy;
And, if he seems less thoughtful now, at least
He’s blithesome as a birdie or a beast.