You go eight years to medical school
To learn to cure our ills,
But the only thing it seems you learn
Is how to prescribe pills.
A little pill for this disease,
A little pill for that.
A pill to make you skinny,
Or a pill that makes you fat.
A pill to stop your migraine
When it feels your head will break.
A pill to make you sleepy,
Or a pill to stay awake.
For every pill you give me
There's at least one side effect.
You keep prescribing on and on
Until my body's wrecked.
I do not want a life of pills.
I hope you find a cure.
But you're Big Pharma's drug rep;
Of that I'm very sure.
You need us to keep coming back;
Gents, and kids, and ladies,
So the money will keep flowing in
To pay for your Mercedes.
Now let's go back to basics
And cure our problems, please,
Or I will find a NEW Doc, and
He's going to be Chinese!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
funny... and 'realistic'.. ;)