Ending The Meds

                        Off the Meds

I take meds when I’m sad, ingest them if I’m mad.
They settle down the nerves, sealed tight and iron clad.
They bristle back buffoons, and jokers by the score,
And tote away the angst, and anger evermore.

I need them every day to help me problem solve.
Won’t go from them astray, it helps my world revolve.
Their kept for many reasons, in choices they’re involved.
If lead to some malfeasance, with them I’ll be absolved.

If I’m failing or I’m freaking, in fear then for my hide.
Not flinching, I’ll consume them, so I can then abide.
And if I am leaking fluid, or green around the gills,
I’ll move and speak with grace, by gulping down those pills.

But what if I were to stop, and just let real life in,
Would it transform me anew, to a life of splendid sin?
What if I have an urge, for a life now and raw and rich,
Would it not condone the scratching of that itch?
 



Yes, why not break the chains, of what’s keeping me so sane,
To release any impulse, deemed to be my bane?
If one must go through hell, to see fullness of the light,
Why douse passion’s flames and have me lose the fight?


Was the mystical concealed, monsters veiled and masked,
Or the dervish earthly bound; demons not put to task?
Was imagination mired, to mellow and murky dreams?  
Instead, I’ll give the infirm, word to burst from the seams.

Bend and break the bars, from prisons of the sane.
Let that phoenix rain, fresh ashes of the pain.
I’ve danced so well while delving, in a life confined,
I’ll add a spell of hell for life more well defined.


                                                            Al Bartolis 1/7/2022