Everywhere There Is A Medic Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Isn't it easier to criticize,
Anyone doing something with their life...
They seem to like to do with a doing done.
Than it is to stop from feeling aggravated...
That no one gives us the time of day to listen,
To everything negative we say and can find...
That describes why we are such miserable people.
All the time.
With a tuning into grief as if to be treated by it,
On a daily basis to feed on diets of aches and pains.

We keep those feelings bottled up,
And ready to blow...
To explode!
As mean streaks steam...
From jealousies we can't let go.

Oh yeah we keep those feelings bottled up,
And ready to blow...
To explode!
As mean streaks steam...
From jealousies we can't let go.

And everywhere there is a medic.
Over here there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
And everywhere there is a medic.
Over here there is a medic.
Oh yeah!

We keep those feelings bottled up,
And ready to blow...
To explode!
As mean streaks steam...
From jealousies we can't let go.

And over there there is a medic.
And everywhere there is a medic.
And even here there is a medic,
Oh yeah!
And everywhere there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
And even here there is a medic.
Oh yeah!

And over there there is a medic.
And everywhere there is a medic.
And even here there is a medic,
Oh yeah!
And everywhere there is a medic.
Oh yeah!
And even here there is a medic.
Oh yeah!