The doctors
fed me pills.
They told me
my suffering
was born
from an illness of
the mind.
This melancholia,
this
…mania
controllable
with just a few small
doses.
I believed them.
Yet through all
the different chemicals
prescribed.
None, could really cure
the atrophy
of spirit.
In this life,
in this world,
we have made
the very act of being
alive
a disorder.