The Doctor Poem by Richard D Remler

............



I've heard an age old mystery
How he was born in Gallifrey,
A long, long, long time before
He ever had to go to war.

Two hearts, one mind,
An enlightened soul
Always ever on the go.
Where his travels always
Bring him through
Time as ancient as it is new.

From the constellation Kasterborous,
He's more than an Intergalactic Tourist-
He is a turncoat and a renegade.
Part of an interstellar masquerade.

A caricature of fate's embrace.
Traveling through time and space.
And Gallifrey's one survivor-
With his trusty Sonic Screwdriver...
An eyewitness to the unforeseen
In his stolen Time Machine,

He is a Lord of Time,
As you can see.
A Prydonian,
They all tell me.

He is legend,
Told amongst
The stars and moons,
In a million starlit
Afternoons,

Loved by many,
Feared by more...
Whenever good men
Go to war.

And though he's saved the lives
Of millions.
He has caused the death
Of billions.

He is the Doctor,
The Raggedy Man -
He's seen the end
Since time began.

Go ahead,
Ask Sarah Jane,
She'll tell you right,
She'll tell you plain,
How he's so different,
Yet the same.

Bow Tie's are cool,
And don't you know,
He reversed the polarity
Of the neutron flow.

Aye, Tegan knows,
For she was there.
And to be fair,
So does Rose...

Listen to the
Singing stones,
And take heed
To good Martha Jones.

There's Polly Wright
And Peri Brown,
From time to time
They're still around.

And then,
There's Nyssa,
Smart, and clever.
Always brilliant
As ever,

And he was
Very fond
Of his Rory,
And Amelia Pond.
Who left him so alone
The day
Weeping Angels
Stole them both away.

And River Song,
Courageous, Strong.
Brilliant, Daring
As can be,
And Professor
Of Archeology.
Always careful not
To share
Too much information
There.

"Spoilers, "
She would wisely smile,
But oh,
Melody Pond
Had style.

The Daleks hate him
As of late
With a very
Perfect hate.

Even the Clockwork Robots,
And the Cybermen -
Loathe the one
Who conquered them...
They've met him time
And time again,
And never fully
Understand~
Why does the Doctor
Always win?

And The Master,
Wicked, Twisted,
And oh so wrong,
Who's never gone
For very long.

And Davros,
Always sneaking
'round,
Rebuilding what
Was torn down.

He is more than
Just a paradox,
This stranger
In his wooden box.
This quiet man
Of ancient lore
Who found his tomb
On Trenzalore.

He is a Lord of Time,
And obsolete,
Weary of his many years.
He is history
Replete,
A memory of
Souvenirs.

A lonely man
Who ought not be
The lonely man
That we all see,
Who, in his Tardis,
Flying high,
Sails this dark
And starry sky.

Doctor?

Doctor Who?

exactly...