Let me get a good look at you
Close up, where I can see the works
Like a diamond polished till perfect
This wasn’t always the case, you know
Someday you’ll thank me
Those countless hours of work
How I had to creep away with you
The dead of night
You wanted to scream
But screams are troublesome for mutes like you
Still I couldn’t blame you
Not knowing what was in store
Your dilapidated workings
Your unsuitable mind
Tossed then turned
Until you could expend no more
But in the confines of this humble study
I had all the instruments
All the tools I ever needed
We played with scalpels, haeomorrhoid forceps
And bone saws and brushes
We cut tissue with scissors
And stuck probes past tenaculums
Which indignantly parted arteries
There were catlins, both big and small
And of course, tourniquets
However unfortunate, morphia come with quite a price tag
So some luxuries we must go without
Alas, don’t slouch
My natty friend
Look on the bright side
You are but a fraction of your old self
Much improved, if I may say so myself

© Dicky J Loweman 2014



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