Unseen waves of pain arrive
as we age. Medicine cabinets
become the place to go when
we want a little peace and pray
that the pain will cease.
Open the door and see so many medicine
bottles sitting there. Some to help sleep arrive
and others to stop the ongoing harm that makes
one want to see the light at the end of the tunnel
when we’re about to die.
Take that pill often enough and
every afternoon you’ll have to
take another to counteract its effects,
and soon you’ll need another to combat
its consequences too.
Like a polluted river, kidneys and liver slowly
corrode, until you’re taking pills for them too.
The longer you’re alive and want to survive,
the more important your medicine cabinet
Massages and hot tubs temporarily relieves
our aches stemming from our mistakes, but
we can’t survive and stay alive without fulfilling
our pharmacological needs that doctors insist
are the only way to stay that way.
Then one day, the legislature in your state
has an epiphany and declares Marijuana
can be used for pain because after all, it’s
only grain. Hesitant to try and not believing
it could possibly reduce any agony, you buy
a few strains to see.
Eat it, smoke it, or do both, you don’t know,
which to do, but try one or the other and after
sleeping all night, you awake and feel like leaping
from your bed, because the bleeping pain that’s been
with you for years and years has gone missing and you
wonder why it has taken all these years to legalize a plant
put on Earth to relieve some of our pain.