Sonnet

On Decency

Out of the bones of those gone,
Comes the cry now to show pity.
Many who still live must atone,
From their heart, not being witty.

The relief of pain and inability,
Simply by providing a plan of cure
That we now have as clear as reality.
We must however see to a plan thats pure.

No longer is the wealth of our nation
To be squandered for greed and pride.
Nor is it possible to issue by ration.
The division of service will flow as tide.

Service to our fellow sojourner to the end
Done as in church where we do not pretend.