Beasts of Burden

Just heard a patient groaning,

“These doctors are all beasts!

They overcharge then kill us,

And then enjoy their feasts!”

I smiled sarcastically

At the overall I wore,

At scars I got to win it,

At the awful pain I bore.

They wonder how we changed,

Once cream of the nation,

I’ll share some reasons why

We get this accusation.

Ever touched a human bone?

Oh no! It gives you frights!

We can even sleep with them,

Studying in pre-stage nights.

As they enjoy bridal showers,

Alive with lovely melodies,

We work in autopsy rooms-

Examining assaulted bodies.

They shout when their dress is dirty

With a little spilth;

We’re in the pathology labs

Hands dirty with their filth!

Expecting baby, they take rest,

Buy clothes and baby carriages.

We travail in labor rooms,

Preventing their miscarriages.

We see a patient breath his last

But We're too busy to cry,

For there's a patient next in line

Whom We just can’t let die.

And if we take a ten-minute rest

In a thirty-six-hour toil,

“Murder!”, “Cruelty!”, “Negligence!”

We sigh- at this turmoil.

Frequently, we hear humans

Threatening to abate us.

We, the beasts, stand unarmed-

Wondering about our status.

Then they attack so horribly

We get disfigured and fractured.

Yet, seminars are held where

On humanity, we get lectured!

When we raise our voices,

Through media, you react!

Declaring natural deaths as

Expiries by neglect!

Hoping in hopelessness,

Breaking down, we stand!

All to give these “Humans”

In their hourglass, sand!

Now when they call us beasts,

Then maybe, they’re right

For we are the Beasts of burden-

Ploughing yet beaten, day and night.

Anonymous

(class of 2020)