If Only. Poem by Ripper Jones

I remember we did a charity gig
in a home for handicapped youngsters
we saw all those kids
we were the awestruck audience
and after the performance
a teenager came up in a wheelchair
and asked our singer for a kiss
afterwards in the van going home
we spoke silently and artificially
but the tears we shed were real

Practicing hedonism through drink drugs and sex
and through art literature and music in later life
is this the only way to escape this world designed by a devil?