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The Examination Room

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  • The Examination Room

    Even Doctor’s are my Friend,
    for my Health I can Depend.
    But I have a Bone to Pick,
    in a Rhyme will Be the Trick.

    Exam Rooms are Like a Cell,
    though Can’t say I Know one Well.
    Ushered in then Close the Door,
    Wait from There is Quite a Chore.

    Magazines with Turned up Pages,
    Old to Oldest are the Stages.
    In the Gowns I can’t Relax,
    ‘specially With the Breezy Backs.

    Tables with That paper Sheet,
    Stick to It is Such a Treat.
    As I lie There want to Twitch,
    wish There was a Message Switch.

    A suggestion - not Bizarre,
    Least should Be a Mini Bar.
    Stocked with Stuff that would Omit,
    memories ‘bout How long I Sit.

    Then a Knock comes On my Door,
    my Long Wait it Ain’t no More.
    As it Opens – Foolish Hope,
    they’ve Warmed Up their Stethoscope.