Waiting in a hospital to go in sucks big time
You fill in forms when you thought you were fine
Then you wait watching day time television until
The nurse calls you in and answer the same questions still
You go to a room and put on a blue disposal gown
With a fluffy white dressing gown on top around
Then they come with a wheelchair and take you down
To the CT scan that will direct the cortisone round
The whole idea is to give you relief from the punch in the face
That ruptured the discs at C5 and C6 they fused in 2000 in place
The disc that ruins the nerve roots in the spinal column race
It hurts even more to know the malefactor skipped the state
When he came back it was a bond he got no time to serve on his plate
Getting back to the day hospital admittance I wait and the doctor speaks
We will take you in and put in a stupor so we can put in position to tweak
So when in the correct position that you won't remember that well
We will put the cortisone in next to the affected nerve and that should tell
What the affected nerve is and if it may stop the pain down your left arm
All I can think is here I am affected forever whilst the criminal went on the lam
So the needle went into my neck and I can't remember a lot
Except being wheeled to recovery and the barouche did stop
So I was dressed and sat around reading apps on my phone
Until the nurse said I've phoned your daughter to take you home
So that was my day in hospital and a couple of days off
I would think the criminal would be able to laugh this off.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
that's revealing. Thanks