To mom, whom I love very dearly.

My loving mother, who taught me to fly,

I beg of you, listen to my cry.

This ponzi scheme has you crushed,

yet you let my words be hushed.

Those overpriced caplets, those horrible pills,

will bring you naught but horrible ills.

Let me help you, I studied for this,

don't fall for false promises of bliss.

I can make you a new herbal cure,

a much better one to be sure.

The herbs in theirs are barely backed

and they hardly tell you what's been packed.

With my books and skills I can give you more,

with normal herbs bought from the store.

So please, mama, heed my words

like you love to listen to the song of birds.

Look to John Oliver as he tells,

Multi-level Marketing rarely sells.