I was sat at a table when these words flew from pen to paper

Thence from my keyboard type transposes it to electronic page

Sitting there with row upon regimental row of tablet

Spread before me like cadets on a passing out parade, awaiting postings

Pills of every hue, shape and functionality, through their barrette skyward

They all get posted to mind and body control central

Aboard pill trains, transporting a week’s supply ready for distribution

 

Each lozenge seemed to cast their beady little arrogant eyes back at me

Thinking that they are some sort of miniature gods, as I overt my gaze

My body’s functionality now being enslaved by their powers

Their tied of influence was high and still the waters rose

Sometimes I felt I was outside, alone in an unnamed world  

Where inhabitants built their houses on pains floodplain

Discomfort lurked in the darkness plotting infiltrations across my bodyscape

 

Rebellious thoughts infiltrate my mind, cutting out reason and common sense

‘I won’t take all my tablets today’ and ‘I can survive without taking them all today’

 So, like an idiot, I miss few, change the time I take the rest

For a while I feel great, thinking I have got one over on those dictators

The drugs influence reduces, and it’s a victory for the slaves, or is it

Discomfort brings the darkness inside me, joins forces with pain

Blackness as black as the bottom of an unlit coalmine envelops bodyscape

 

Common sense and reason find torches in a cupboard of my mind

Their beams puncture the 200 foot of pitch black mass within me

Like lightning bolt it sews its way across inner sky revealing the damage

Whole blocks of houses on pains floodplain, gone, leaving millions homeless

Pain and discomfort have also moved into areas previously unaffected

Now the drug regime is back in control, and I’ve a new pill god to worship

I take full medication on time; body control is back, all hail miniature gods  

 

© Phil Golding 29/11/08