One…two…three…
Twelve…and a half
Once in the morning
And once at night
Pop…swallow…carry on with my day
Desperate to sleep at night
The concoction that keeps me going
The concoction that is a network of pharmaceuticals and herbal supplements behind which a battle wages
A battle between profits and people
Between curing and cashing in
And here I stand as the sacrificial lamb
Awaiting my slaughter
Millions more bleating behind me
Our bodies and minds written off as collateral damage
Scribbled as a footnote on the bottom of a balance sheet
While our blood flows as tears from the eyes of those who know us by name
And corporate America exchanges our corpses for a private jet to hell
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Kayla Evans and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.