“NHS to offer art classes instead of prescription drugs.”
– The Times
Dear Doctor, once you gave me pills
To keep in check my mental ills
And when those ills were very bad
It seemed that I would go quite mad
But now you’ve stopped, I’ve no complaint
Because, you see, I’ve learned to paint
And after all that I’ve endured
Can say for certain that I’m cured!
This mighty drug we know as Art
Imbues with peace my stormy heart
As every brush-stroke soothes my brain
And every stipple stops my pain.
My palette symbols self-possession
My easel banishes depression
The oils exude a steady balm
Infusing me with lasting calm.
At last I feel I’m in control
Released from demons, sane and whole.
And so I write to tell you why
Physician, we must say goodbye.
I hope and pray that some day soon
The State extends this blessed boon
To everyone of troubled mind –
A panacea for mankind!
(PS. Perhaps you’d let me know
If any of your colleagues show
An interest in the human ear?
I have a fine fresh specimen here.
I’m told last night I cut it off.)
Your Humble Servant, V. van Gogh.