Pilloried Poem by harry hayes

Just two pills were in our cupboard,
In days of long gone past;
An Aspro; little liver pill,
Which made you go - and fast!

Should you feel no better,
Chemists 'bottle' became your due;
Too vile to give to witches,
They dispensed it, just for you.

Pills soon became like Topsy,
Their numbers grew and grew;
Vitamins; uppers; sleepers;
Forever something new.

Sex used to be a chancy thing,
Or what Gallic tars had on their caps;
Now pills to liberate women,
Rise and shine for droopy chaps.

The medics keep you living,
But pellets become your fate;
Two at a time was once your stairs -
Prescription drugs of late.

A pill box was a dainty thing,
Back to Topsy once again;
Potions no doubt your saviour,
Also a ball and chain.

Future news will come from science,
Back to two, the numbers fall;
Numero one, to live forever,
The second - final call.