Sickiatry Poem by Sheldon Carruthers

You hide behind your office for cruelties untold
your lies are bold our suffering is your gold
you cannot stand the truth that you cause us pain
you talk about us as if not human or somewhere in-between
the amount of money you make from us is totally obscene
I'll see you in hell and all your kind not to know what the problem is must mean you're bloody blind
take all your fancy words and put them in the bin take your pills they make me ill and add to my chagrin
your a smooth tongued hypocrite a liar and thief your no good and up to mischief branding us like cattle then ignoring all our grief
drugs for profit is your motto you sit there as if santa's grotto though your not there to be kind
you consign us to the luny bin where you think we're fine
It's not about the truth or so I was once told you fold your arms and dismiss me it seems you need no proof
you speak so softly then you hand us to your thugs where they mentally torture us us and inject us with your drugs
let drugs be replaced with hugs and labels with kind words it's difficult to create a future when the present's filled with hurt