Antidepressants

I'm finished with the happy pills. They never
Made me very happy. What they seemed
To do the most was throw a shroud over
My life. The world seemed to draw away,
And, with it out of reach, though I remained
So miserable as I had been without the pills,
I fell into a torpor. Maybe that's what they're
Supposed to do: not cheer you up so much
As make you too lethargic to keep contemplating
Suicide. Thus, you sustain a life which doesn't
Differ much from death. That's over now.
The shroud's been lifted. I'm not any happier,
But I can move. I want to move, to shoulder
Through this dismal planet, knowing that,
If I should start to think I ought to die again,
I may, but I won't take those pills which
Made me feel I had.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 65 times
Written on 2019-12-17 at 18:16

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