I emerge into the day
from my nightly stay
explaining it away
with the pills I take
that do indeed,
make the suffering "seem" less.
have dubbed up a name
for the mess I'm in.
At least "they" are at rest within.
Yet, I persist in my quest
to know this enemy mine,
even to question its existence!
For it seems somehow unrelated
to the "self" I have translated;
un-syncopated in rhyme,
un-postulated in reason,
treason even, to the Constitution
which grants me the right of restitution
to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of
My definition's powerless:
Life: a struggle to maintain.
Liberty: cocoon of pain.
Happiness: pursuit of some
genetic strain of unknown origin!
These are how my days begin!
Or, at least, how I've perceived
I sit inside the shadow of presumption
that the MD's are right
and have, quietly, without a fight,
swallowed their assumption.
Still a growing question,
like an ivy's twining vine
leads me in a new direction
where the "truth" is mine to find.
For surely I am bored to tears
listening to the White Coats
whistling guesses in my ears;
examining my body/blood
to keep me in arrears!
So, I will dare resign their path
and move onto another
where, by the Grace of God
I'll stand a chance there to discover
the truth of mind contorting matter
in such a way as to recover!