Pills, Pills, Pills - A Sonnet Of Complaint Poem by Richard St. Clair

A psychotropic buzz renewed each day
Is the story of my life these many years,
Medicating what would be hot tears
Of post-traumatic stress, the doctors say.
Even so I wonder what would be
The absence of these many pills I take;
Would poems and the music that I make
Be more alive and much a different story?
Such is my karma, it I've come to own;
I neither curse the dark nor light a candle—
Instead I learn this artifice to handle
As it keeps my storied life from spiralling down.
I can't explain why some live life so naturally,
While deal I must, this burthen mine, so factually.