Chronically ill Harry took so many pills he felt like a walking pharmacy,
Pills for this, pills for that, pills for diseases he couldn’t pronounce.
He even had a big tray to assort all his pills and the times he took them.
One dark winter’s day when Harry had a new chronic body ache
The doctor prescribed Harry another pill and Harry’s spirit sank at
Having to take yet another pill, and he said it was one pill too many.
Feeling like he was only a dead man walking kept alive by 20 pills,
He dumped all his pills in the trash and felt a joyous sense of relief.
Pill free and liberated from all that medicine, he died the next day
With a smile on his face no longer suffering and artificially alive.
Bob Boyd