Don’t Make Profession A Curse

Again salt is put on my wounds, again I bleed Yesterday only event took place, I am sullied A poor husbby’s wife had a labour pain Brought to a Hospital, for greeting gain All were happy outside, inside medical check Baby was ready to come out, to see the world At utter surprise, doctor gave a beastly peck Mother must be operated, ‘a stone was hurled’ Then came a nurse, Sister Magothi and said Case is not complex, not to be operated, treat Poor lots at Govt. hospital come with hope Why money? Help humanity, you’re paid Doctor replied, if this would be simple delivery I will pay the amount charged, I promise, agree Hopeless, they took the lady, at the risk of God Lady delivered the Baby on the pavement in a pod I salute Magothi for his deeds, a blithe soul I curse the doctor, curse to his profession I praise to Allah brought the baby in this earth I praise all those condemned the act and cursed Priceless humanity is so costly, measured with money Shame to the profession that drains humanity honey