A Doctor's Supplication

for the umpteenth time I seek your grace since that day you saved my soul i apologise for the years of silence it was inevitable-patients came in droves i never pray for a mortal''s harm though i need scores more patients not for my purse to swell and explode but for practice to improve my skills why should i behold a jury's sneer or be intimidated by outrageous wigs or part with my labour's wages for ungrateful patients with vengeful souls deliver them from ignorance who subject drugs to cruel abuse but let them learn with slight infirmities so they will surely come to me help my flustred ribs to see that i loathe treading in sacred groves but it is a necessary and inevitable pleasure that rescues many a patient from that endless abyss Lord i swear i am your faithful son church is great, but it clashes with call tithe will come after a new car and Lord, a poor patient refuses to pay