Iodine stained air, rain on asbestos,
Cancerous crabs, skin and slough.
Within these walls covered with moss,
Lies humanity in the rough.
The ailing patient, the impatient physician,
But not a measure for attrition.
In the night side of life,
Who will see them through all this strife?
Art heals the soul, medicine the tissue,
Stitch, nick and
suture,
Listen and heal this tumour.
The night side of life calls those not afraid of the rough.
When those in high places,
Say humanity is lost sure enough,
Let them walk two paces,
And see humanity in the rough.
/* Have you ever been to a large government run hospital in a developing country? If you haven't I urge you all to spend some time there. Often we seem to forget what the human condition is all about living in this make believe world of social media and materialism. There is a wonderful concept in medical literature that disease itself is a metaphor. For instance cancer is considered as an alter ego or the varied uses of the word ' plague '. I guess seeing humanity in the rough , reminds us of how much we can do as the fortunate ones and makes us give up arm-chair cynicism. The title is a reference to one of the passages from Of Human Bondage . */
