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Hurry Hurry
Hurry to the doctors
My appoitment I shall wait
Why do I always hurry so
When I know he will be late
They put me in a room
So quiet and alone
At least give me a magazine
Or better yet a phone
I'll keep myself occupied
So I won't be a bear
That I can be so mellow
When he finally gets there
But on my next appoitment
I'll just come in real late
Then they'll tell me SORRY
You're just going to have to wait!
I can relate to this poem. I've already had to wait about half an hour in a doctor's office and another fifty-five minutes for him to get into the room. I never did find out what was keeping him and his supposed "Help" did nothing for me. Thanks for the story that unfortunately all of us are all too familiar with.
Seeing that I know you, I can just imagine you in a waiting room screaming inside for a phone and calling the god dam doc everything, it is so you but your so ;lovable as well,