Second Opinion
I went to the doctor today
with a pain,
Caused by shoving sharp things
up my snout,
The doctor said simply, "Don't
do it again",
And bid the nurse usher me out.
But I wasn't happy, I'll freely
admit,
In having my pleasure denied
me,
A habit's a habit and I'll never
quit,
For I dote on the poker inside
me.
So left with no choice did
I wander around,
In search of a cure that would
suit,
I worship the man I eventually
found,
A quack in the slums of Beirut!
He looked up my hooter, examined
me well,
And wrote on a pad as he spoke,
"I take it you don't care
for your sense of smell?"
And I grinned as I took a sly
poke.
I ran to the chemist, prescription
in hand,
I relished an end to my ills,
And all the solutions were bottled
and canned,
The capsules, the liquids, the
pills.
So now we're contented, my
poker and I,
Indulging ourselves without pain,
I'll shove pointy things up my
nose 'til I die,
Most likely through piercing
my brain.
But I have enough here to
carry me through,
Heaps of pills, lots of this
stuff and that,
My only concern is according
to you,
Do you think it's making me fat?
(C) Copyright 1999
DRAGGIE
All Rights Reserved
