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on
the line millennium poems
These poems were sent in
by visitors to the On the Line websiteThe Merciless Cholera
Jamila, aged 15, Ghana
Oh cholera, how dirty you are,
You might have come
Probably from the pig family.
Dirty water is your home.
And unclean places your chamber.
Oh cholera, how infectious you are,
For you can get rid of
Perhaps a thousand in an hour.
The stomach is your pot,
Into which your non-stop water is deposited.
Oh cholera, how dangerous you are.
Your patients are isolated,
Even under medical supervision.
The dead are unmourned, friends, relatives
And patients disown them.
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