Pharmacy Poem by Stefanie Fontker

Pharmacy



You say you have it
The Cure
That it's in you
Running through
Your very veins
I think rather
It's on you
Perhaps in your
Pocket, front or back?
Save your breath
I won't buy it
For a million dollars
Your smile tells me
That it's obviously
A rip off
That mouth of yours
Is a multi-millionaire
Corporation itself
No, I will not
Trade you my last
Piece of bread
For a single vile
I'll give it to you
For the recipe, though
No, no, no
Never mind, Mr. Salesman
I think I'd rather
Wait it out in the hospital
Try your sales pitch
On my corpse
You'd have better luck

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success