Addiction

If I had chicken pox
Or some other kind of spots . . .

Or whooping cough
I don't know what . . .

Tucked in bed with tonsillitis
Fucked in the head with menningitis . . .

Eyes yellow and red with conjunctivitis
Or jaundiced and rent with hepatitis . . .

You'd send me a card
You'd visit
Maybe pray hard
And you'd wish me well . . .

But instead you damn me to hell
You actually fear me and wish me dead
For this disease in my head
That fills your heart with such suffocating dread

You turn away
Won't give me the time of day

You so easily refuse to forgive
This disease with which I live

These opinions that you pompously voice
That my affliction is my choice
It's all a guess, all hypothetical
When this is not a moral matter, it's medical

I don't know how I caught it
Or where or when I bought it
But I know I never sought it
This unfortunate affliction
This addiction