POEM β§
"mundane medicine" - (4/28/24)
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in drawers they dwell, in bottles bright,
tiny capsules, round and white.
each day begins with a ritual, still,
swallowing pills, a mundane pill.
a choreographed dance of mundane grace,
measured doses, in their proper place.
morning, noon, and night they call,
a routine scripted, no room to stall.
for some, a lifeline, for others a chore,
these pills, our daily rapport.
a symphony of clicks and taps,
as lids are twisted, revealing caps.
invisible ailments they strive to tame,
yet tethered to them, all the same.
a silent pact with modern days,
in the haze of pills, life's maze.
yet amidst this mundane parade,
hope flickers, not yet afraid.
for in each pill, a promise lies,
of brighter days, beneath gray skies.
so though the ritual may seem banal,
in pills, we find our daily call.
a reminder of fragility's hold,
and resilience, in stories untold.