Ode to “medication”

Minus a needle or lance,
Declaring your head was askew,
Upon you, their mind, it advanced,
Experiment theirs, became you.

Stormy your thoughts from within,
Your circuits would cross and divide.
Resetting your ends they’d begin
With chemistry pimping your ride.

Responsiveness, yours now delayed,
Shuffled and slurred was your way.
Your mind, up for you, was remade,
Erased and re-taped every day.

Then slipping away from our view,
That evening, your final ascent.
No more “medication” for you,
You gave it all up. It was Lent.

Scientism says

Scientism says,
They know what is best.
Scientism says,
We should all submit.
Scientism says.
We must all invest,
Scientism says,
Every little bit.

Scientism says,
Go and have your fun.
Scientism says,
There is not a sower.
Scientism says.
When the game is done,
Scientism says,
That it’s never over.


Without our God our way seems right,
When wrong we think we’re not.
Replacing Him is our big sin,
But He won’t be forgot.

Proverbs 14:12 – “There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.”