Doctor, I have heard you play your Harmonica before,
there's something wrong with a surgeon that plays the blues,
I can't believe that all escaped you!
But, then, eveyone needs to relax in their own way, I guess.
That was fine, until today...
and I know that you are thought to be the best...
Now, it is MY mother that needs your help!
Doctor, use your gifted hands again,
please use your training and your heart,
anatomically there's no such thing,
- - - but, save this soul!
In this troubled world...
giving one this good, another day...
gives everyone a better chance,
nobody ever knows who she will touch tommorrow!
Maybe with a story,
maybe with a look,
even with a smile - - -
who's to say what other soul is waiting for a touch!
You are one hell of a surgeon,
but, for the good of all...
remember that oath that you took,
sort of...
First do no Harmonica!
Barry Van Allen
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/doctor-h/
