Cheap Pills Dispensed. Poem by Michael Gale

These pills, those pills...
What yonder cheaper ridden high, thrills?

They make your mind, very hazy...
Only because you are weak and lazy.

Sometimes you cry...
And want to die.

You might ask yourself why? ...
Why, even try?

It is those pills you take...
What be this addicted, mistake?

They keep you flying...
As you near the ground, and continue your weeply-crying.

They are your safety net to land, not crash...
But in reality, they are chosen, hastily, and brash.

No real thinking was done here...
You need to kick this habit, for those who hold you dear.

Do not worry...
Do not fear.

Seek help, seek it best...
So that, in the end, you'll pass this test.

No more pills....
No cheap thrills.

Walk thru that door...
'Good Freedom's, Score'.