Cure Me
by @TheRavensWrittingDesk
A cryptic message is scribbled
on a small white paper
Then passed to a thin pale figure
as he leaves the small room.
Pale figure ride
Pale figure glide
This will surely be your cure
One last hope for the hopeless here
But why cure a man in one day
Why collect a single fee
When they can treat him for a lifetime
And get paid repeatedly
Oh poor sickly pale man
If only you knew
What cruel jokes they play
At the exspense of you
Ride pale figure
Glide pale figure
Into the arms of a thousand angels.