Sonnet: Lamentations of an Upright Doctor

Oh God, my lord, I want to be upright!
Could I send patients with pockets empty?
When poor and sick a person comes to me.
My conscience tells me whatever is right.

Though he be rich, could I him ever fleece?
Where is the need for too costly treatment,
Except to take back money for my rent?
I can’t charge him hence, exorbitant fees.

When cure can come for rupees only ten,
Then all I need to do is speak kind words;
Can I waste money ev’n if he affords?
Where is the need to admit him often?

God, let me keep my ethics in this world!
Heaven is not attained by any gold.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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