Rapport Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

A doctor interviews you first
and stills his interviewer's thirst.
He thinks he understands you well
you think he hears what you do tell
the doctor thinks you know that he
can cure diseases to a T,
you think the doctor thinks he can
cure illnesses in every man.
But if the doctor fails to see
the cause of all your misery
he leads you on so you believe
that he will give you a reprieve,
he does surmise that you accept
that doctors never are inept.
And you, if you are pretty sure
that it is death you may endure
you lead the doctor to lay claim
to being victor of this game.
In time, and just before you die
you ask yourself the question 'WHY'
but then you think about your doc
who stand with you, a solid rock
and both of you then ascertain
rapport itself can be quite vain.

For Rachel and all her doctors.