Do they say the same to every patient?
Do they read from a card, or do they do it from memory?
You sir, are overweight, what else is new, yes I understand you’re blue,
Life has its ups and downs, maybe an idea would be to discover a new you…
Take from this what you may; rediscover your interest, while you partially pay,
Enjoy your life, you only have one, do doctors know this, I doubt that, no pun,
Are they psychic or just as psycho as we?
Do they put on and remove their pants in the same manner as me?
Are they as awed as we, when visiting the ocean, or watching a sunset so pretty?
What sets them apart from the “common” man, their education, their intelligence?
Should we just assume that they are the gods they purport to be?
Or should we be in awe of their abilities, so much they are above that of me…
Where did this poem come from and where is it going?
Don’t ask me, I am only the poet that has herein found a place to vent,
Have to go to the doctors today, have to pay on my body, the rent…
Oh goody, it’s starting to rain, a nice hour drive in the rain to the office,
So the doctor can poke and prod and stick their finger into my respective orifices,
Gee, doc, I usually have someone buy me dinner before I allow them to do that…J
© ed – 3/27/04