Del “Abe” Jones

WITH ALL THESE CHOICES

Up to forty different plans
Now, isn’t that a choice
From drug/insurance companies
And you know they will rejoice.

The Feds can’t ask for bids
The prices are cut into stone
Another rape of our People
Maybe the worst we’ve known.

Some can’t afford meds now
And you can mark my word
When we find out this will be worse
Our outcry won’t be heard.

Big business and the bureaucrats
Will have their way once more
While all those rich get richer
And the rest of us, more poor.

Hundreds of the percentage
They mark-up on the pills
While some may even kill you
Before they can cure your ills.

The FDA is in deep pockets
While lobbyists write the Laws
Glossed over with fancy words
To cover small print flaws.

They won’t let us buy abroad
While they sell our jobs, within
Some meds are made up over there
So we just get screwed again.

The richest Nation on the Earth
But, we might not be for long
Since those people we Elect
Can be bought for a song.

“Birds of a feather flock together
And so will pigs and swine”
But unlike the nursery rhyme words
The choice never will be, “Mine!”