by | Nov 12, 2007 | Poetry | 0 comments

I have my ‘ ups and downs ‘
As all thermometers do
The rise and fall of Mercury
Through ‘ highs and lows ‘ like you

I feel my pressure rising
I’m at the ‘ end of my tether ‘
I don’t feel quite so good tonight
In fact I’m ‘under the weather ‘

I’m kept inside a cardboard tube
Stored until I’m used
If you knew what I was used for
You’d think I was abused

My Cousin tried to talk to me
A ‘ Barometer ’ by trade
Working in a Hospital ?
He thinks I’ve got it made

If he just knew what I went ‘ through ‘
The places I have been
Between the hidden ‘ cavities ‘
Dark places I have seen

One minute I’m as cold as ice
Then hit the old ‘ hot spot ‘
The Rectal Probe for Temperature
A place I’d rather not !

I meet lots of nice people
Though I never see their face
I’m always ‘ down the other end ‘
A ‘ Target ‘ like an ‘ Ace ‘

My work it sounds so Glamorous
“ It’s Not ! “ I want to sob
I get stuffed every single day
To me it’s just a ‘ Bum Job ‘


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