For eight years now I've had my fill
Of visits to Clinics and Doctors who,
Have eased my pain and stabilised me,
From this Disease of which I'll never be free.
I've paced the corridors,
Had X-rays too,
And countless appointments,
Waiting amongst many and few.
I cannot complain of the help that I've got
From Doctors, and Nurses, and Staff on the trot,
Who, daily, hourly, weekly and more,
Give aid to the Injured, Sick and the Poor.
Where is this place to which I allude,
Whose Staff and Consultants are helpful, not rude?
‘tis Addenbrookes Hospital in Cambridge UK,
Where I attend often, and don't have to pay.
May they continue to treat me, and all others too,
To relieve my affliction, which is not new.
Myasthenia Gravis, an incurable disease,
Which I must live with, unless it is appeased.
Copyright (c) Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 25 October 2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem