Diagnosis

You’ve more than a touch of the blues, my son—
Someone has sand-blasted deep into your soul,
Where no one—especially not you—has gone before.

We may have to call in a consultant.
(This could get expensive; you’ve covered, correct?)
That’s good; we must prepare to be prepared.

I see from your history how many of your people
Drop dead after only seven or eight decades.
This indicates an inherited trait: you give up.

I’m going to prescribe pills better than prayer.
Take four or five per day of these until gone.
What? Of course, of course I meant the pills.

What kind of a doctor do you think I am?