A poem on doctor
Every night I lie awake
And every day I lie abed
And hear the doctors, pain and death,
Conferring at my head,
They speak in scientific tones,
professional and low
One argues for a speedy cure,
The other, sure and slow.
To one so humble as myself
It should be a matter for some pride
To have such noted fellow here,
Conferring at my side
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