O Meds! O Docs! of the symptoms of these recurring;
Of the Consumers of the Providers-of hospitals fill’d with the ill;
Of my meds forever reproaching my meds, (for who more foolish than my doctor, and who more sane?)
Of symptoms that vainly crave the meds-of the doctors and meds mean-of the struggle ever so-called crazy’d;
Of the poor results of all meds-of the plotting paranoia and sordid symptoms, I see imaginary people ’round me;
Of the voices and useless vocalizations of my speech-with rest, my symptoms intertwined;
The question, O meds! So sad, the side effects-What good amid these meds, these docs, these mental maladies O meds, O boy?
That therapy and meds are here-that recovery exists, and health;
That the powerful ‘trip’ goes on, and the symptoms contribute to our creativity.