Mindfulness, they said, was the treatment
Thrice a day and he’ll be decent
With a dollop of lithium and a pinch of antidepressant
With fasting and abstinence during that time of Lent
But his mind was too full already
Thoughts flew in random sorties
Hypoglycemia made him trip out
To those marmalade skies far south
Tangerine trees that couldn’t be plucked
Orange Gobstoppers that couldn’t be sucked
A hop, skip and a jump away from the finish line
OD and then everything would be fine
On a knife’s edge of reality and delusion
Unable to fathom shadows from illusion
Kneeling on wooden pews crying for salvation
While the man at the mic spoke of eternal damnation
With accusation in every person’s eyes
No longer knowing Truth from Lies
The scent of death in each new day
Mixed with incense, those clouds of grey
Floating to heaven