Friends⚜️⚜️⚜️

“Friends,” a poem
Upon a sea of love, our bodies float, Clean, soft flesh drifting as a delicate boat, Bodies housing the awareness of angels divine, Fragile and sacred, our cells are so fine. Bodies emerge, and they need tenderness and care, Kind friends welcome us.  Surely, they are fair, Vowing to never traumatize the flesh or disturb the gentle mind, “First do no harm,” ever careful and kind.
What is this instead of that we see?  Tradition!?   and something called S.O.P.In the hospital gym: “Pain will be gain,” 
Some force is needed, so you can remain, Ready for action.  There seems alliance stress with injections and speculative science.
A baby arrived with directions it gave, To all “friendly” workers, don’t be too grave, But they then cut the fabric, drove needles within. Are these ones your friends in The Land of Long Pin? Where were my friends when I came here that day? I presumed they were friends; now, what do you say? Certainly, true friends will not hurt or maim? But, as you grow up, they give more of the same.
“Handle With Care,” were the directions we brought, For fragile shells, they can be damaged a lot. If you get the wrong friends, they’ll “take care” of you, By painfully treating and torturing too.  
They told me: “We’re trying to make Heaven on Earth,”
And this they have told me straight from my birth, But, when they say: “This will hurt us more than you, “These are not friends; this is not what friends do. So, near your Dear Mama, they gathered around, And cradled your flesh when out you did bound, Who were these people who then took you out, And cut and did puncture, as you painfully shout?
They are medical “experts,” who are planted here, To “heal” our bodies, “We’re helping you, Dear; Come visit us often”  The treatment’s not free, But “It is well worth it,” they tell us with glee. The Earth is inflamed and so is your skin, The delicate fabric; “Just let us come in; We might have to tear and remove this and that, We know what to do; we know where it’s at.”People will trust them ’til their dying day, Of course, we believe that their counsel’s OK, But I think that my delicate flesh should just rest, Not all friends are friendly; find the touch that is best.
Try to do good and to treat others well, Of course, you might fail, but this I can tell, “Remember the things that you know can hurt you; Don’t do those things to the fragile and new.”