Bastard Children of Hippocrates

There is blood in the water,
And the sharks gather round,
To feed on the weakened flesh,
Of they victims they have found.

I wonder how you live each day,
In your robe and your gown,
Knowing you will be preying upon
The vulnerabilities you have found.

Is your oath something you live,
Oh bastard children of Hippocrates?
Do no harm means more than you know,
It means to help the ones who are in need.

~Keep Walking

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About ~Drew

I am a survivor of childhood torture. Each day, I put one foot in front of the other, moving forward. To do any less would spell my own destruction. My music/poetry/prose deal with the devastating effect of this kind of abuse on a human being: me. My experiences/thoughts/ideas/misconceptions are exposed here for all to see. Here. I am lain bare, naked, hidden only be the cloak of anonymity.
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One Response to Bastard Children of Hippocrates

  1. Like I am wont to say, “Jesus never charged copays.”

    A great heads-up to medical folks who may have temporarily lost their sense of calling to a wonderful profession. Loved it! Thanks,

    Amy Barlow Liberatore

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