By Ben Vest
It took a lot of persuasion, Dreading the ramifications, But with no other solutions, Under keen observation, A doctors name in lamination, With our many visitations, Until the day of my mutilation, Removing the sickness of corruption, The process of elimination, Undergoing a life alteration, Hoping for a successful operation, The color of scarred lacerations, The cure for others an imitation. Going to an admired profession, The recovery in question, Doctors eyes became my obsession, With a physical therapy conversation, Perhaps an amputated cauterization. Hooked on his medication, Our drug deal declaration, His remedy of falsification, Up sold on his dedication, My body doped on his intoxication, Succumbing to his fascination, Our meetings became my addiction, A superhero to my agonized satisfaction, Waking up to this isolation, Smacked with realization, He never applied to my position. He left when I rose, Balancing on my tip toes, I'm stalking as he goes, But my blinded savior knows, Hiding between the rows, My frustration exhale blows. With my chest scarred, My only souvenir, My skin marred, Isn’t my only fear, My senses jarred, He wasn’t that clear, His windows now barred, Not letting me come near. So now I’m a head case, Talking with a shrink, Striding at a steady pace, His name is Doctor Pink.
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