She was not really sick, nor severely ill;
only taut, tense, tired, anxious and stressed.
But when she asked the doctor for help
he had swiftly prescribed her the pill:
from a sedative class category, valium
or diazepam, dissolving anxiety, attending
to her panic attacks, enabling her unbending,
relaxing at last her nerves and atrium.
But it did not take too long for her to get
addicted to the devious tranquilizer drug.
She lost her appetite, she felt dizzy and tight;
her anxiety back, she woke up shaking in sweat.
Primum non nocere, oh physician, please,
abstain from doing harm, Hippocrates warns.
Medical interventions carry gloomy risks,
the cure might be worse than the disease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem