The Gods and the guniea pigs

He was just a simple man,

Living life like millions do,

He ferried the whole city,

Driving around in his auto,

His life wasn’t perfect,

But he was making most of it,

Until the day the lightning struck,

As he woke up feverish.

His body trembled like a leaf,

His forehead burning like a coal,

Feeling too weak to live his days,

He knocked at the god’s door,

With hope and respect he went,

With care the god took him in,

Leaving himself into his hands,

The poor man counted his sins.

The god and his minions worked,

They gifted him the second wind,

Dragging him back from heaven’s gate,

They put him back on road; driving,

But promise did they take from him,

He visited god on days he marked,

His life was finally back on track,

But little did he see the scars,

The scars god was giving him,

All in the guise of love and care,

Too late did he realize,

That something is wrong, unclear.

No longer could he sleep in peace,

Like fish out of water he fell,

His muscles ached, stomach churned,

And putrid his breath did smell,

His legs were fast betraying him,

The running feet could barely walk,

He ended up at the god’s again,

And as he died he heard them talk.

He breathed his last in agony,

Aware of fact that god betrayed,

He was treated like a guinea pig,

The god he trusted never cared,

He was a subject, not patient,

He learned the truth as he died,

And sadly he was not alone,

The money smiled, Hippocrates cried.