Into a sterile metal maw
they feed the damaged clay
to try and find the pesky flaw
confounded with decay
that’s sensitive, but stays sedate
as polar forces resonate.
Throughout the antiseptic maze
subalterns banish pain
despite the mortalized malaise
we rail against in vain,
but even if a cure did show
it’d be denied by my HMO.
2 comments:
That is a certainty which ranks right up there with death and taxes. Good one Bob!
Thanks Russell, nice to 'see' you 8^D
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