Poem -

Antibiotic Junkies

Society is travelling back to the time when the common cold kills

Caused by antibiotic junkies buying ā€˜over the counter’ pills

They’re ignorant to the fact, their hypochondria has made a mess

And are unaware of their contribution to destroying medical success

We’ve all heard them slating the doctors, I need antibiotics for my cold

Even though they don’t clear the cold virus, that’s been known from old

Despite this, they go scrambling round to find their latest fix

When all they need is bed rest and an old fashioned, soothing cough mix

They’ve affected the future of our children in a way they don’t understand

No medical contingency in place yet because this just was not planned

It’s a scary situation to be in, look at how quickly you can catch a cold

And with the sick and the elderly, it really can take a hold

The curable cold can quickly turn into an infection on their chest

Without antibiotics to cure them, you can imagine the rest

Here’s a thank you to antibiotic junkies for only thinking of your self

You should have left your ā€˜cold cure’ on the pharmacy shelf

Like 0 Pin it 0
Support CosmoFunnel.com

Support CosmoFunnel.com

You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.

Log in to leave a comment.
Poem -

English Language

Words

English Language

Dessert, desert, bear and bare,
Tears you cry and paper you tear
Blue's a colour, you blew it...

Poem -

The Fly

The Fly

Naturally curious and really quite rude
Making a bee line into my food
Buzzing and rubbing it...

Poem -

Mother Earth

Seasons

Mother Earth

Bitter breeze envelops the warmth of the sun,
Dragging it into the distance, Autumn has begun...

Latest poems in Drama

Poem -

WHISTLEBLOWER COURAGE

WHISTLEBLOWER COURAGE

It's not easy to do the right thing...

Especially, when you've probably covered the wrong for so...

Poem -

Capturing the post midnight...

Capturing the post midnight quiet of October 20, 2025

with words in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania

Ordinarily, yours truly by this hour (ie est me) would be...

Poem -

78

Dedicated to Charles F. Johnson (1947-2013) who died on July 13...

78

When Dad died, it was something that wasn't great.
If he hadn't perished, today he would've turned...

Advertise on CosmoFunnel.com