Progress

So it seems my woeful fable
Has done a back-flip, landed stable
Now I’m becoming much more able
To fight the illness that made me flail

The agony has matured
Aged past the brewing point
Apathy is being ignored
Less focus spent on flaws

It’s been more than thirty days
Since my body has been saved
Free like a liberated slave
From perpetually stoned ways

Life seems to be back on track
As I’ve rested and relaxed
It’s time to face the fact
That I no longer need a quack