While the moon cast its shadows
of mystery,I imagined
the skyline of a great city lights
and the dark shapes that skulk under,
crouching malevolently
within the territory
of my beloved motherland.
In the looking glass
I glimpsed.....
Reflections of indigents,
taking complete reliance
on herbals of the soil
they toil to cure their illnesses
and sadly oftentimes descent them into graveyard.
Why?.....
Without a centavo
vision of fare treatment past gone.
Most poor patients were untouched
because of their 'empty pocket' looks,
struggling from some apalling hospital crews.
I myself had witnessed few of these scenes;
How they struggled through the hurricane-force wind,
swimming the dangerous and chaotic seas
just for a tablet of paracetamol,
just to get a bed on the crowded ward
just to.....paint faint memories by candlelight.
They passed high foam-tipped waves
to survive the tempestous day.
But most of the time they painfully face
the cruel medical practitioners' ethos
of redundancy and self-sufficiency
that were designed for money,not charity
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