Kim Cresswell

Doctors - Poem by Kim Cresswell

“Perhaps a course of medication would be wise”,
A doctor advised,
Hiding behind a rice paper partition,
“I'm a well known Physician”,
He reassured,
Messing around with bottles and tubs,
Of endless needles and stubs,
Of what appeared to be cotton wool.

“I used to have my own practice on the edge of a town”,
He said, with a noticeable frown,
Walking out and around he sat on a chair,
“I'd make an educated guess and say that you had never been there...”
He said, with wit.
I sat upright from my slouch and adjusted myself,
It was true I wasn't in the best of health,
But was he really trustworthy?

“I think you'll be fine after some rest, ”
He addressed,
“Nothing beats slight depression than a pair of nice new shoes...,
With those I presume you would improve...”
We were now in much different water,
Was he comparing me to his daughter?
Something isn't quite right.

“Perhaps a night on the town would brighten your mood? ”
He said with an inappropriate attitude,
“Open your eyes and open your mind, God will help you find...”
What was he, blind?
My notes fiercely stated 'Not Religious',
I began with the words: “I know the root of my depression, ”
“It is the offspring of my emotional repression...”
Boy was he in for a surprise.

“Sir I do believe your attitude towards me is wrong”,
“I do not follow this pattern of religious song”,
“I have been accused of not being very open-minded”,
“To you I may seem somewhat blinded...”,
I take a breath,
“Sod you and your false medicine and concerning stories”,
“Your odd looking certificates and all of your glories...”
I stormed out.

Once outside it became clear that I may have gone over the top,
It's not like me and my brain to suddenly pop,
So, deciding I was going to be the polite one,
I walked off to fix my action,
Inside I ventured,
What met me was not what I had expected,
The Doctors surgery was being inspected,
By the police.

I ran to reception where I was told abruptly to sit down,
What had this place gotten itself into now?
I had been coming here reluctantly since a child,
And now everything has become somewhat wild,
There's that doctor,
He was walking alongside three police men,
In handcuffs, still holding his pen.
What was going on?

“Excuse me? ” I asked, walking towards a woman,
I heard a mirror smash, perhaps a bad omen?
“What's going on? ” I asked, acting kind,
“Doctors being arrested, something about being fined...”
My mouth was agape.
It turns out weeks later that he was a criminal,
Something about cheating on his wife and revenge that was personal,
We will never know.

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Poem Edited: Tuesday, July 19, 2011

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