Within our health conglomerate,
Those fighting change are quick to say,
If functionaries’ wants are met,
They’ll single out who’ll go or stay:
In balder terms, who lives or dies
According to what costs arise.
Ironically those claims are hurled
By health providers charging more
Than anyone around the world
And thus assuring death’s in store
For those who can’t afford their drugs
Or other care from licensed thugs.
In fact, it’s not complete b.s.
When nighttime falls, we prove it so.
To see the dawn, ten dollars? Yes.
Ten thousand? Almost surely no.
A tipping point lies in between,
Installed by bureaucrats unseen.
Their critics say they govern death
In panels weighing end of days.
But counseling toward final breath
Physicians, Medicare now pays.
Though talk of killing still runs rife,
We’ve always rationed human life.
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