Herbert Nehrlich 2
Thus Spoke Socrates - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich 2
Oh ye folks, you have suffered the bane of delusion,
you look up to the great healing hands,
while your eyes have gone blind to the rampant collusion
that has swept with a vengeance all lands.
While the powers created a people in need
there was profit usurping good sense,
and the fellows wore white as the mantle of greed
and they talked of essential expense.
Yes, dear citizens, God erred in most of his ways
he created a nightmare of scrap,
of the billions of cells that a body displays
only few have potential on tap.
Yet, for reasons unknown he allowed us to grow
much gray matter to clear the morass,
and the doctor stands tall, he is certain to know
what to do for your pain in the ass.
Be implicit in trust, take your medicine boy
and commence this procedure at birth,
let no naysayers stir and no health nuts annoy
it is wealth that must rule the old Earth.
Be assured though, dear friend, let the truth now be told
neither doctor nor medicine heals,
we were made to obey on our path to grow old
and the secret is buried in meals.
Let thy food, so he said, be thy medicine then
he was right, and he prayed and he preached,
and the time may yet come that the stroke of a pen
sees all healers and peddlers impeached.
Let me add still that arrogance hardly may suit
human beings, consider just this:
that we may be quite handsome and some even cute
but with so many things so amiss,
we are feeble and weak, and we suffer great ills
at the slightest light change in the breeze
I would think we would bring an assortment of pills
just to make it 'till morning (I tease) .
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