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Medication


Is this the answer to some of my ills,
This little phial of small white pills?

Standing by my glass is this little friend,
This pill to bring insomnia to an end;
But can I swallow it? Do I dare,
For perhaps it may trap me there

Locked in a nightmare so deep
I can't wake from induced sleep.
A form of cruelty, of mental rape
From which normal waking would bring escape.

This little white pill now in my hand,
Offering entrance to Somnolence land,
Is going back into the box to be left here
By the glass, for I cannot conquer my fear.

Those little pills I'll put away;
Maybe, maybe for a future day.







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