Doc #poetry

I went and asked the doctor,

Please tell me if I’m ill,

She said she thought I might be,

And gave me a new pill.


Now I am not the expert,

And that is why I ask,

But must everything be solved by pills,

Whatever is the task…


Finding solitude in company,

Wishing his life would just,


He had tried once,

He couldn’t even do that right,

He failed, failure,

Eating pills,

Like sweets,

Then a change of heart,



He didn’t cry for help,

He just cried,

To cure his sickened mind,

They gave him pills,


More pills,

When they didn’t work,

More pills,


What didn’t kill him,

Now doled out,

The shame of asking for prescriptions,

Pharmacy staff recognise the man,

He stands,

Stares at his feet,


Then cries,




Plastic Coated Promises

Awaiting the magic,
I take three chalky,
Somewhat bitter pills,
Swished away by bottled water,
Into my bloodstream,
Then the wait,
Kidding myself,
I feel something,
A tingle,
Could that be the start,
Pins and needles up my crossed legs,
Toe tapping,
Knee jerking,
Nerve enduced dance moves,
Sounds within,
Soul music,
Sold music,
Frustration is an emotion,
Not wanted, but invoked,
This routine of popping pills,
I’m not trying to dance,
I’m just trying to live,
The plastic coated promises,
Pills prescribed by “experts”,
In what, not in me,
Tomorrow’s dalliance,
More of the same,
More waiting, hoping, hopping,
Plastic coated Promises.

7 Day Cycle

Each seven days,

Uniform, yet different,

Pills in trays remind me the days,

Different colours, sizes, purpose,

Then all gone,

Replenished again, with the recognition,

That I’m still unwell,

Are they working, who knows,

But how would I be without them,

Would you take the risk,

And so as ticks n tocks,

On countdown clocks,

I don fresh socks,

Today is Saturday,

My pills told me,

And they never lie.