by | Nov 13, 2007 | Poetry | 0 comments

The day his wife found Ted in bed
with spots upon his skin
she promptly called the ambulance.
They quickly took him in.

Upon a trolley he was put
and covered with a sheet.
They placed a name band on his wrist
and bed socks on his feet.

The waiting room was oh so full,
They didn’t have the time
to take a look at old Ted’s spots.
He’d have to wait in line.

They left him in the corridor.
His wife went for a meal.
Ted fell asleep. Two porters came
and freed the trolley wheel.

They pushed the gurney down the hall.
Old Ted, he just slept on
and when his wife returned from lunch,
she looked, but he was gone.

A and E was in an uproar,
nowhere could they find Ted.
His distraught wife then threw a fit
and ended up in bed.

They searched all of the hospital
but nowhere could be found
the trolley with Ted and his spots.
It must have gone to ground.

Meanwhile Ted woke up in the dark.
He thought he was in hell.
It sure didn’t feel like Heaven
but then, how could he tell?

He got down from the trolley and
he felt round for the door.
He found a light switch, turned it on.
You should have heard him roar.

They’d put him in the mortuary
along with all the dead.
No way was he remaining here!
He scarpered home to bed.

And that’s where his dear wife found him
upon arriving home.
Laid on the bed, pushing out z’s
in harsh, intensive tone

The moral of the story is
‘Forget the National Health’
You’ll get much better treatment if
you pay for it yourself!


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