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The Patient
Think of the patient;
Hear his cry;
With pain and suff’ring,
Eyes go dry.
Think of his poor state
And his mind;
His diseased body,
Doctors find.
Think of the patient
His travail;
Him from agony;
None can bail.
Think of the disease
Without cure;
Man lives for God’s sake:
And endure.
Think of his doomed fate;
None can change;
If drugs still work ’tis
From God’s range.
Think of the patient,
His family;
Can you give succor?
For what fee?
poem
by
John Celes
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