from the ink of his mind,
to heal her ailing mind
stabbed by love swords.
Like a doctor he knew the diagnosis,
a broken heart not a cardiatis.
And without surgery or dialysis,
she got a good prognosis.
His verses were the tablets,
his lines the intravenous line.
And rhymes as drugs combined
to treat her heart’s defects.
Nice imageries used as vaccines
and calming aesthetics as medicines
to cure her heart neatly
and prevent reoccurrence completely.
His poems became her daily medications,
and the dosage is ‘read with all dedication’.
There’ll be no need to remind her with notifications
when to take the poemedications.