Saturday, October 6, 2007

Without warning . . .

. . . I shared bi-polar anguish seven years.
Didn't know Jimi Hendrix, only the music.+
First wife couldn't be understood;
decades later second was best friend,

then understood perfectly, in deepest anguish,
worse than being mangled in a wreck.
Now I know I was drawn to them, because
I'd seen deepest sorrow, and highest joy, within.

Concerned to draw another, I stay myself;
but hold not back compassion, for theirs
is greater than yours, though you think not;
their love, too, deeper than you may want to know.

By sorcerous potions, drawn away suddenly, under
spell of lithium+, paxil/prozac and a dozen other "sundries."
We best friends, then lost of each other,
love of closest friend ever, gone . . .

. . . in distant haze, doctors and family uncaring . . .
and faith lost of compassion between dearest friends.


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