DRUGS
The pharmaceuticals have all the power,
Then they give it to you in pills that make you sour
“You have shortness of breath?
Then let’s take some death!
This will all be over by the end of the hour.”
It’s a silly little limerick
But you’ve signed so now you’re bound to it.
It’s a contract so grim,
It’s impossible to win.
It’s a system you can’t outwit.
The pharmacists and psychiatrists
Make their livings on commission.
They give you pills in small boxes,
Call it a sample,
They say “it’s trial-sized, I swear!”
But then the addiction starts,
And the jitters begin.
You’re stuck in the middle of the ocean,
And you don’t even know how to swim.
Now, I am not a doctor.
Nor a smart-ass with a degree
But answer me, oh misery,
How can such things come about to be?
From the doctor or the grocery store,
It’s all the same these days
You can get your OTCs or Ecstasy
Just with a stroll down Pharmacy St.
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