Do not go gentle into that wonder cure,
Let health persist and struggle until the close of play;
Rage, rage against iatrogenic death, for sure.
Though wise men at their end know death is best,
Because their warnings forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good rest.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how right
Their honest trust might have been in an honest day,
Rage, rage against their drug induced plight.
Wild men who lived lives of outrage with a shrug,
And learn, too late, that doctors had their way,
Do not go gentle into that miracle drug.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
That it was their bodies who held the key to ongoing health,
Rage, rage against Big Pharma's might.
Giving full attribution, but with the sincerest apologies, to Dylan Thomas
