Mon, 02/15/2016 - 06:42 -- Agastya

I have these pills to swallow, these potions to drink,

how much more to go?I can't bear to think,

these pills that I went and bought , I hate them but their life support

I have one for anti depression and one for pain,

I have sweet ones, bitter ones some just plain

to think your life depends on something so small

without which I wouldn't be able to walk or crawl

if crawling gets me through life without pills

it would save me a million bills

but if they're not washed down 

in the wave of life I will drown

and I envy those who seem to think 

it's cool to take the pills to swallow and potions to drink

they have an option everyday

they don't need to pretend everything is okay

They don't need to breakthrough this wave of pills

or climb that hill 

where to reach the top

you need to swallow a pill but stop

cause everytime you swallow

to decrease your pain or sorrow

you get sick of these pills

then it just depends on your power of will

to go on.

But what happens when your will is gone?

and your tired of swallowing one pill at a time

so you write your last rhyme

and shove all the pills left into your mouth

don't worry cause from now things ain't going south

cause these pills 

will make your life stand still

you wash it down with alcohol

you pick up your last call

it's death speaking

asking why you're demise seeking

and you reply:

I wanna die 

because I can't go on anymore

because at once I don't take one pill or two or three but Four!

and to make me live like this , it's a crime

so I figured it's the end of the line 

so as darkness cover you

all you can do

is think: 

No more pills to swallow. No more potions to drink.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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