Modern Medicine

My doctor’s never met me,

But he/she doesn’t need to.

I’m in their computer and,

My numbers do not lie.

Or so they say;

They say they know me,

By my numbers.

So they’ll tell me what to do~

From afar they’ll tell me what to do,

They’ll prescribe me perfectly.

Because they know I’m just a number,

Just like every other, and they know:

That I’m no different,

Than any other.

They’ll tell us all just what to do,

Because they know us perfectly.

And they know just how to keep us,

Safe from everything.

And if they don’t, we needn’t worry,

Because they’re working very hard.

They’ll have a better answer soon,

We need to trust they’re never wrong.

And if we don’t believe them,

That they know what they are doing.

They’ll have our friends ‘persuade’ us,

And have them tell us what to do.

My health is now a public matter,

Every neighbor is my doctor,

And the government is my physician.

Everyone except me it seems,

Is now an authority on my body.

Because they heard it on TV,

Or from some guy they call Fauci.

But I don’t think I really need,

Some far-flung ‘expert’ committee,

Determining what to put in me.

Healing is an ancient art, a very personal thing.

Nothing even remotely like, this modern medicine.


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