The Doc had said to 'flush'.
He was in no big rush,
but toxins had been stored
lab tests had now explored
what needed to be done.
'Go out into the sun
and get yourself some beer
the next time you are here
you will have no complains.
So use your tiny brains
it is not pills you need
but amber brew indeed.
You dump into the sewer
(the doctor was a brewer)
the poisons from inside
they all do hitch a ride
and when you get too pissed
I'll cross you off my list,
I think the world must use
for health, a lot more booze.'
I know many people that would love to hear this from their doctor! Funny poem Herbert. Sincerely, Mary
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hey, I'm told a little 'medication' brewed is the best remedy! Nice, Herbert. LSP