Quieten Down(er)

I’ll
take
anything
you’ve
got to
give

A drink;
a smoke,
a sedative

As the
voices
in my
head
these
days

Are
proving
far too
competitive

Regime #7

I think
these pills
have
stopped
working

They
have
become
just a
token

For
they no
longer
take away
the hurting

From a
heart
that is
already
broken

Poetry

Some pills
make it
better

Some
make it
worse

Sometimes
the only
solace

Resides
in written
verse

Side Effects

If I
clench
my jaw,
anymore,
my teeth
will
crumble
to dust.

It’s so
unfair,
that for
my own
welfare,
these
tablets
are a must.

Eternity

Counting the days
Counting the hours

You bring the wine
I’ll bring the flowers

Counting the minutes
Counting the seconds

We’ll both take a pill
As eternity beckons