Chronic
Chronic
Fool, that I was, I thought to be more
Only to be gutted, and left on the shore.
To Doctor’s appointments, I dutifully arrived
To be sent away, told lie after lie.
You look so good, you must feel fine?
The only explanation, “it’s all in your mind”.
The package so shinny, the skin, so bright,
The body inside, it’s tainted with blight.
So many years, I lobbied and I strived,
Wanting more, than just to survive.
Nothing’s possible, all dreams, gone
Once, I danced, now, pain’s pawn.
The day’s are listless, seas, becalmed,
Waiting for light, without hope of dawn.
Copyright © Bren Deliantoni | Year Posted 2024
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