'HELP! '
Went round to the doctor today
For a review
To hear what he had to say
His real view
In the clamour to be alive
We drive our bodies to extremes
At times
Our mortal frames scream
We keep driving
Despite the many warning signs
Striving
To get a round of stretch in its sighs
When 'HELP! ' breaks news
That you need restoration
Your joints running dry and loose
The diagram of a skeleton on the wall becomes your consolation
Now you remember
The chin bone is connected to the neck bone
That every December
Sometimes, October or November dial the doctor's phone.
C.18092021
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent poem about us ourselves, but must be pondered on, this poem gets me thinking.5 Stars for this wonderful poem. Love reading it!