Doc in a Box

He’ll knock you out for a minute or two;
He’s the doc in a box and so very untrue;
No real treatment nor any appeasement,
Just an ‘I can’t help you’ with a pill ‘n bill;
Clinic after clinic ‘n you become a cynic,
And lose your belief you’ll find any relief!
Not even any advice; just a nice farewell;
Oh, but you have to pay for that sad day!
Yes, they’ll take your money with honey
Sweet hands that band together
In no treatment of your ailment;
Yes, this is a doc in a box and sly as a fox;
You leave with no more than dirty socks!
Medical care in America is a rotten snare!


Just Around the Bend

What a strange place to be, so estranged from reality,
Medicated beyond lucidity into the realm of absurdity,
Where what exists is rearranged in an ailing exchange
Of truth for fantasy in the horrid travesty of the vanity
Of doctors trying to cure what had been plainly pure;
But, then, it was the trick of your feigning to be sick,
And now comes the kick of being forever the addict;
What about now, though? Does clear truth still glow
Below the surface of your nerve-wracked existence
In persistent insistence that this is not genuine living
But only false pretense in defense of silly escapism?
What a strange place to be, truly, in deranged reality
That is not reality at all but a fall into a bad nightmare,
But you don’t know that yet, do you? Still, it is so true!
Pills may blind you to bills and gain relief from pain,
But life still goes on to the end . . . just around the bend,
Just around the bend!