Alfred Barna

Doctoring - Poem by Alfred Barna

You have stripped life of all meaning
DNA you put on patents to sell and inure
Your pharmaceuticals are intervening
With the very souls of those who seek cure
As long as they are repeating customers, as addicts will
Come scrambling along, empty pockets for your pill
You would make band aids that fester and prolong
If you could just get the doctors to play along
Everyone is a potential cash cow ready to milk
As long as your boardroom is fill with your ilk

You have taken an ancient oath of do no harm
And places a proviso to insure no competition
You are no better than a witch doctor with charm
As long as they come to you in repetition
You are the leech which seeks a host to prey
And tell them their faint headiness is all in mind
When they are penniless and finally pass away
You eagerly search for other veins upon which to bind
BPA, heavy metals, fluorides, and carcinogen abound
Guaranteeing you a steadily modern lifestyle supply
If it is not produced by corporation you have found
You tell your minions these foods do not apply

Bovine growth hormones, BtE in tow
Neurotoxic sweeteners all make you blush
They make those profits like tumor grow
And another summer home to make you gush
How do you claim a genome to be your own?
You want fees from what you have not grown
When you are not the author of its creation
You seek to reap fortunes from man’s annihilation
A snake can eat its own tail and claim a sire
As Prometheus lit your way with hell’s fire

You system is not new, caduceus from old
You are the carrier of death and destruction
You believe you are the Midas turning to gold
But everything you touch leads to obstruction
Your karma can only pave to calamity
A barren wasteland is what you bring to fruition
You shall reap nothing but enmity
When hearts and bodies beg for proper nutrition
Science itself has become a religion I say
Preach elsewise and a heretic you shall become
Laud not to mere men, who demand that you pray
And all must pretend that they are dumb

Comments about Doctoring by Alfred Barna

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 3, 2013

[Report Error]