Someone on the poetry course asked why so many of the elegies were sad. That made me think……this ain’t sad, but true
Weeks and months you rode me
Killing my days with your itch.
Red raised welts, fattened lips
Eyes I could barely see.
Restless days of scratch and itch
Nights without much sleep.
Drugged to the hilt, not very clear
No heavy machinery for me.
Do I miss you now?
As I glide through life,
Skin clear and nights of peace?
Heck no! Stay away, you bearer
Of pain. Thank God, thank God
I am free (I hope)