Health Poem by Paul Reed

The body is full of things that can go wrong
Like heart and lungs and pulses not strong
Like parts that ache and shake and quiver
Like the fever you get and then the shiver

There are many components, all linked together
Doctors and surgeons don’t really know whether
To disconnect them and try to insert new
Or leave well alone and see how we do

We’re bombarded with advice and statistics
From the NHS and even from mystics
About Body Mass Index and things not to eat
Then three years later say we’re not complete

Unless we fill ourselves with the very same stuff
That just previously they’d advised us as ‘duff’
To jog very slowly when before it was ‘run! ’
To never eat more than five sticky buns

In a period of five consecutive days
Unless you also eat them with cranberries and Crème Anglais
In equal proportions but beware, even then
To lie down after you’ve eaten them and count slowly to ten


The consequence of all this, is that we’ve become nervous
About our health and the National Health Service
Should we all call the doctor, or just consult the web?
When we wake up and find ourselves at a low ebb

Should we go running through the casualty ward door
When our worries reach a peak and we just cant take any more
Or should we just lie down and put the blankets over our head
Then wait ‘till the morning to see if we’re dead