“Cure your ills with these here pills,
As easy as can be.
With my prescription in your hand,
You’ll soon be fit as me!”
The Doctor, smiling, showed me out
And took me by the hand.
His Secretary, smiling too,
Then charged me seven grand!

I hastened to the Pharmacy,
They welcomed me right in.
And when they saw my list of pills,
They wore a hearty grin!
“These pills aren’t on the PBS,
So sad, you’ll have to pay!”
I grabbed my pills and paid the bill,
Still shaking with dismay.

I found my way to Medicare
And settled in a chair.
The crowd of people waiting there
Near drove me to despair.
When my turn came, they shook their heads
And said it’s just the rule:
The scheduled fee is very small,
The refund’s minuscule!

Thankfully, the pills did help,
I’m working overtime.
When I was sick, the bills I paid
Were really quite a crime!
So when someone you know’s taken ill
And turns a little green,
And says, “I can’t afford to be sick!”
You’ll know just what they mean!

Stephen Tomkins
15 November 2014