Weeping Psychedelics

To those who weep when
laughter sleeps,

for those whose days
are stolen by black dogs –

and even to those who keep
sanity all to themselves,

or those who sleep
half jacked up to avoid Mondays

all jazzed up on life, hot on the tail
of a trail behind blazing Mars.

To those who Sunday is the day to bleed,
and for those who wept when Jesus slept,

but sigh for those of us who weep
for humanity on its path to oblivion,

but have nowhere left to go,
I raise my glass.

 

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Tags: atheism, faith, mental-health, poem, Poetry