Merchants of Death


Insulin, what keeps the blood within me pumping
Costs hundreds each week
My medicine is a commodity
For the green-eyed, hungry monster
That is the pharmaceutical industry
For this necessary drug,
My stomach becomes as empty as a black hole
For if I choose to eat,
My drug must be rationed
It’s a constant tug of war of what I’ll die first from
Diabetes or starvation

Premiums as high as the canopies of sequoias
My wallet is no Superman
It can’t scale these impossible heights
But dare it try to climb,
With bared teeth, bulging veins, and aching fingers
My family feels the fall of the 42 stories
SPLAT as their bodies hit the cold cement
In a pool of debt, they sink
A merciless, endless vacuum

Big Pharma, I ask, I beg, I pray
Lower your prices
Untie this tight noose around my neck
You are an omnipotent God
I am an ant, in your eyes
My life is a statistic in your revenue projections
My disability bleeds green,
As green as the mountains of freshly printed bills
Entering your bank account as my life
Is smothered from existence
As silent and fast as a match being blown out
From a birthday cake in a dark room
Birthdays I will never be able to celebrate

When my body is laid deep into the Earth,
12 feet under the rich, cold dirt
Know that it was you, Big Pharma
That dug the hole

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