Before the Music Played
A poem of experience
I remember a time when my life didn’t rhyme,
when chaos was mixed with fear,
my mind was in a minefield,
and none of my thoughts were clear.
I fought and thought that erasure,
by any means I could find,
would stop the dancing demons,
though they left me debased and defiled.
I had the feeling I was unworthy,
and cried when the other ones died,
and wished that I too was in oblivion,
though the attempts the angels defied.
It was do or die and my mind bent,
into places I never had been,
from the depths of death, I kept swimming,
halfway to the top and between.
Then one fateful night, I was caught in full flight,
picked up and placed in remission,
it seemed more to me like hell on earth,
constricted without my permission.
Years then passed like walking on glass,
struggling with lack of emotion,
I met an old friend emerged from the past
lying next to her down by the ocean.
Nothing comes easy the track’s often greasy,
though it’s a matter of inches not miles,
I completely quit self-medication,
and through a process accepted my trials.
My mind is now clear I live without fear,
and am grateful I’ve learnt the hard way,
I know now that all lives are fragile,
and we’re the better if we have our say.
Now I can hear, the sounds are quite clear,
my mind has been moved and swayed,
the difference equates the experience,
of the times before the music played.
©
David Rudder
5th July 2020
Thank you for reading.
