A patient sent the pome below in a letter to us. I don't recognise its
provenance and haven't found it through Google. Does anyone recognise
it? I quite enjoyed it, in any case.
When doctors visit us in pairs
It's best to hide beneath the stairs;
They sign a chit and then that's it,
We're locked away with hungry bears.
In hospitals they come in fives
And murmur about saving lives;
They raise our hopes with stethoscopes,
Bland bedside manner, then sharp knives.
Maybe there's more to medicine
Than silver, Greek and heroin;
Yet each in turn we reach that urn
Which others stuff cut flowers in.
--
Michael Leuty
Nottingham, UK
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