A Living Hell Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Compute the trade-off between taking drugs
which lowers quality of life while filling every
moment with aches and pains while relegating
sleep to a rare occurrence, to stay alive; and
taking no destructive drugs to die in peace

Prescribed drugs have more painful effects
than the original problems they're supposed
to solve; drugs destroyed the brain cells that
produce feelings of happiness and without
the ability to feel content and hopeful and

Expectant, I have nothing of value: happiness
is more precious than wisdom because it's the
fount of love which confers value on wisdom -
without happiness, nothing has value and I am
always looking for ways to escape desperation

But escape is fleeting; drugs rewired my brain
so I have no ability to retain pleasant ideas and
worse: I can no longer experience feelings of
optimism & joy - this is a kind of living hell …