A hospital bed, a dollar sign,

The scalpel cuts for profit, not kind.

Thirty percent of bills inflate,

Care den ied while the rich dictate.

 

Health’s not a business, lives aren’t a trade,

But survival’s a cost they’ve coldly made.

Overworked nurses, CEOs in green,

A system of profit where care’s unseen.

 

Pills that cost just cents to make,

Sold at prices lives can’t take.

A hundred hours for minimum care,

While billionaires just sit and stare.

 

Health’s not a business, lives aren’t a trade,

But survival’s a cost they’ve coldly made.

Overworked nurses, CEOs in green,

A system of profit where care’s unseen.

 

One in five can’t pay their debt,

Lives reduced to a fiscal threat.

Behind closed doors, the deals are made,

While healing turns into a debt parade.

 

Health’s not a business, lives aren’t a trade,

But survival’s a cost they’ve coldly made.

Overworked nurses, CEOs in green,

A system of profit where care’s unseen.

 

Who will rise when the system falls?

When care’s no longer behind their walls?

Till then, the sick must pay their dues,

In a world where health’s a game to lose.

 

Who will rise when the system falls?

When care’s no longer behind their walls?

Till then, the sick must pay their dues,

In a world where health’s a game to lose.