Waiting in the lobby for paper work to go through,
Me and my dad sit side by side.
I'm wondering what the heck we are doing here,
As my dad worries for his life.
His lower back pain causes him problems
His bladder he says going off to early
His bowels hurt like none other
He can't work like he used to
He thinks he might die
He fears for his life
But being the optimist I am
I say that he is overreacting
And if I'm right, I guess he'll be less of a man
But at least I don't fear for his life
I sit in the lobby bored
I type up poems on the spot
I wait for him to be done with his check up
I think of other places I could be
I don't think he will die
I don't fear for his life
I stay outside typing
He is being checked up on
I get annoyed by the lighting
He thinks is health is done
I type poems while I wait
He wants to hear his fate
I wish I had more words that rhyme
He thinks that it is almost his time
Cyberchondria, is what I think he has
But he thinks his life is threatened
I think it will just blow over, that it'll pass
But he is completely frightened
So while he is being checked up on by a doctor, fearing for his life
I await in the lobby, hoping that this time, I'm right.....
