My mother is a pharmacist

Therefore, she perfects drugs;

My mother saves lives

Through modern applications.

The western world has become

One rife with junkies.

Brave pill poppers are we.

I’m prescribed them daily,

Treated to complacency,

Taxed to the grave– 

I tell people my mother does drugs.

Technically, she tests the drugs

On compensated patients

Who might die– they might not

If it wasn’t for the drugs:

Wicked workings, poison,

The brain’s candy,

These are the drugs they want–

I subscribe religiously to my pills and potions.

Her medications

Fix problems they didn’t know they had.

Some drugs extend lives;

Others end them– 

My mother is a pharmacist;

She preaches on drugs–

They aren’t the happy kind

Designed for addiction and release–

Drugs of the future;

Drugs as toxin and cure.