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Sunday, November 20, 2016

Mental Disease

The first doctor I saw,
Had been recommended to me.
It was believed by a few,
I suffered mental disease.
Immediately I knew I had to seek,
A second opinion.
And that's why I'm here.
Hoping your method to cure me,
Is less severe.

'I see.
How do you deal with pain?
Since I don't use novacaine.'

That depends.
How reliable is your method?

'Some prefer pills.
My process is effective.
Although you may consider it,
A bit unorthodox.
At one I used tweezers.
But today I stop mental disease,
By cutting it right out.'

With an AX?
What else you got?

'I could use scissors.
That's why I asked,
About your pain level.
The ax is much quicker.
Less mess.
And less anguish to regret.'

That's SICK!

'Good.
You're cured.
I'll send my bill.'

How much?
How much will I owe?

'Don't pay me.
And you'll find that out.'
Lawrence S. Pertillar
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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