Back with some new material. This is a two part poem I started writing a while ago but I finally have it finished and I wanted to share it with my family/friends etc. Both of them are related to each other. The first poem is more of a story and the second poem answers it containing the real message. Hopefully some inspiration can be found from them. Comments appreciated!
The Doctors Appointment
He was, 5 minutes late
Glancing down at his watch he was already practicing his apology
A swift step inside the lobby, a rush in of the cold air
This old man had barely remembered to close the door behind
'What's Your Name?' questioned the receptionist
'Pardon me, late again' he announced
With a puzzled look on her face she tried to
Remember exactly where she knew him from
She handed him the paper work, he sat down without haste
Nearly knocking down a pyramid of blocks he caught his balance
Trying to collect his thoughts, he pulled out the card
Scribbled down the same responses, and put it back inside his coat pocket
'The Doctor will see you shortly' she said as he handed her the forms
'Tell him to take his time' the old man said with a smirk
As the old man had stepped back to reclaim his seat
The receptionist closed the glass window and thumbed for the phone
Twenty minutes later, the Doctor came into the waiting room
'Come on' he said; the old man rose to his feet
He anxiously followed behind him through the dimly lit hallway
He entered the same room on the same side as before
The two sat down as the Doctor pulled out the paper
'You know the drill' he said in an annoyed tone to the man
The old man took a minute, squinted at the fine print
At the bottom he signed his name, large and fearless
'Prognosis?' asked the old man as he coughed a little bit
'You should know' the Doctor said slightly rampant
'Everytime I come here you tell me the same thing'
'Everytime you come here I can't tell you any differently'
'I pay a good price just to keep my hopes alive'
'You pay a good price and I'm not sure why!'
'I hate to keep bothering but why can't you be straight with me?'
'We can't give you the help you want, old man'
'But isn't that your job, to give good help?'
'We're not in it for goodwill, just the business sir'
'Back in my day, good service meant standing by the customer'
'Well obviously, this is not your day sir'
The old man got up, took off his coat, feeling angst
The Doctor peered out the window because he couldn't understand
The old man sat down and rubbed a spot on his forehead
The Doctor crossed his legs impatiently, twittling his thumbs
'I remember when this place was under better management'
'Oh yeah? And how long ago was that old man?'
'Almost yesterday, they used to be straight with me'
'Well times have changed senile fool. Come back tomorrow, I'll say the same!'
'Why can't you guys operate how you used to?'
'It's obvious you're stuck in the past, old man'
'I just have a disease and I need medical attention'
'It's been made well clear we don't have your medicine'
'You have it, DAMMIT, and you can get it to me'
'We don't have anything positive for you here'
'Soon I might die if you don't help me out'
'The competition is still just down the street'
'They don't have the medicine I need'
'How do you know if you haven't contacted them?'
'I'm well aware, their remedies don't do the trick'
'Are you saying that because you're sure that you know?'
'Why does one have to explain if what they have...'
'Had, nothing you had here will ever be the same'
'I'm not sure what made you have to go and...'
'LOOK, before you whine and complain face the facts...NOTHING we can do'
The old man started to shed a small tear
Ironically pulled out a white handkercheif, a surrender to times
Standing once again, he stormed out without manners
Slammed the door behind, his soul burned slow
The Only Regrets
The medicine was hope, the medicine was action
The medicine was an attempt to rise above the chaos
The mask is a burden to those closed to solution
The medicine is rare but infinitely valuable
Nobody is perfect, everyone makes mistakes
But not all are mature enough to try righting a wrong
The only regrets lie where we don't make an impact
Pain is temporary but character is immortal
Injury is learning, resilience to be expected
Most fascinating is a notion to seek new answers
Do our scabs break if we let it die within the other?
Knowing we didn't do all we could to help them survive
Forgiveness is a bold step, a regrip to vulnerability
Where would mankind be if we truly lived harmonious?
Go back in time, find where you cut into another
Have you fully healed from their bones that were broken?
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