Happy pills killed Polly

Lee is an aspiring writer who makes poems in his free time. Words and lines give him comfort in trying times.

In my slumber, she torments me

Memories of my youth, simple and carefree

Her gloomy voice, echoing in my ears

Unveiling my deep, darkest fears.

Polly, my playmate in almost every game

A ray of sunshine, her smile’s ever the same

In our journey, I’m mostly on the driver’s seat

She’s on the shotgun, always looking at the street.

We were ten when Randy joined us

Cool mohawk and piercing, lips full of cuss

After his begging, I agreed to let him drive

In hindsight, that’s when my mind started to dive.

At first, it was just all curiosity

He drove where the adults frolic and party

Those flashy lights, girls wearing all skimpy

Randy and I ogled, awestruck in their glory.

Polly covered her eyes, whimpering

“We are off-track”, she keeps saying

“We have to go to the Dream Land”

She believes we’re running out of sand.

We’re thirteen when we picked him up in the Frown Town

He’s Tristan, shy, sullen and always looking down

I need to rest, but I can’t let Randy drive again

Polly’s still crying, so Tristan took the wheels then.

I woke up with a heavy heart

Felt like my world was being torn apart

I gazed into the nothingness

As my life soon was void of happiness.

Tristan continued driving, as the whole gang was downcast

Dark clouds and heavy rains were always the forecast

We’re now wandering through no man’s land

Polly’s still whispering, “We’re running out of sand”.

The headaches came soon after

As we fought to see who’s the next driver

We’re getting deeper into the quicksand of melancholy

I think it’s ending, my life’s symphony.

Mother eventually had to intervene

She said she needs to remove this smokescreen

Joyride? There’s neither joy nor a ride

In the misery of my mind I was tied.

She handed me those happy pills as a cure

“Son, the voices will be gone, I’m sure”

But Randy and Tristan are still with me

Although that was the last time I’ve seen Polly.

That was ten years ago, Polly, I’ve got my life now

Yeah I get by, trying to make it through the day somehow

But what if Randy and Tristan were the ones to die?

I remembered you never even said goodbye.

Your ghost, these what ifs and could have beens

I hope you reached Dream Land, even became one of the queens.

Wished I could have written a better story,

Not like this, in bed every night, feeling sorry.

© 2019 Lee Yael

Comments

Lee Yael (author) from Philippines on September 27, 2019:

@Chery E Preston Thank you so much. I will try to write more.

Cheryl E Preston from Roanoke on September 25, 2019:

This is great.

Lee Yael (author) from Philippines on September 24, 2019:

@john Hansen Thank you. Glad you liked it.

John Hansen from Queensland Australia on September 24, 2019:

Wow, this was one powerful and thought provoking piece of poetry. Great work.