Health for all is never the goal,
There is no money in wellness,
If health and happiness became real,
T'would be death to many a business!
The death dealers band together,
Promise to give us a better life,
We queue up to buy their poisons,
In panic, and pathetic hope!
Leading ourselves from pillar to post,
In a state of dread and vain hope,
In abject surrender fearing more,
We pleadingly dance to their script!
The music is orchestrated,
To keep increasing the tempo,
Till we completely lose ourselves,
Into the script written by them!
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