Orthodontists Dilemma Poem by Phil Soar

My local orthodontist has a problem with my gums
He laughs each time he sees me, and my halitosis hums
He wears a mask before I'm there, in his anticipation
And leaves the room to catch his breath, to many times to mention

And when he writes prescriptions for a mouth wash sold in pails
I'm sure there should be discount, from the local chemists sales
I'm not getting much better, and I'm sure this is a scam
And he's a Vet, thinks I'm his pet, and it's just a cunning plan