A pill sits on the table

Sun peeking through the window

Almost as if it is taking a look.

I sit down and look at it

Knowing every problem

Would be solved with taking it.

There would be no more heartbreak

Or paying for that

In which I do not have.

I stare at it for a minute

Then touch it.


Why can’t you simply wish things away?

Pray them gone?

Forbid them to torment you any longer?


I don’t have much time

To think this through

Before the pill is gone

And I’m left

With my heart

In the hands of a fool

That neither cares for its value

Nor appreciates that he has it.


My only cure is this

Little white pill on the table

To remove my heart

From this fools hands.