POETRY COLLECTION

The Prosthetic

As carelessly I rode my bike one day

A truck, it hit me, on the ground I lay

Leg bent up behind my head

The driver thought that I was dead

Limbs all busted by the car beast

My arm was hanging on at least

My back all twisted, my neck all bent

Out and away my conscious went

Lights and sirens flashing loud

St. Johns where pushing back the crowd

On the stretcher, in the back

Big white doors close with a snap

To the hospital, off we go

Speeding along, we’re far from slow

Ambulance stops and here we are

Roll me out of the back with a thump, crash, jar

I’m rushed inside and strait away

They straiten me out YOW! They’re gonna pay!

My arm is crushed beyond repair

“We will have to cut it of just there!”

If I had known what they would do

I know I’d choke, I know I’d spew

They took my arm, and with a saw,

They cut it off! It is no more

Then they stitched me up with needle and thread

And left me alone in my hospital bed

When I woke up my head was numb

Sore neck, sore back, and very sore bum

Oh woe is me the pains have not gone!

It was then that I felt, that something was…wrong

One side of my body felt practically light

And when I looked down, I died of fright

My arm was gone, capoof! Not there!

All I could do was splutter and stair

“You cut it off?” I yelled out loud

And then I remembered the crash, and the crowd

As it occurred to me that I was now lame

In through the door the arm choppers came

“You’ve had a bit of a crash, sorry sir,

And we know it has all been a bit of a blur,

But you should be much better by the end of the day.”

And they checked me over and all went away

So it was for five months strait

Then they let me go home, but all was not great

I found that one arm was not nearly enough

The simplest of tasks where really quite tough

So I called my doctor, and asked what to do

He suggested a prosthetic, to make me feel new

He made a time, to check my arm had healed well

On prosthetic technology he had a lot to tell

I said “yes” to prosthetics, I wanted one soon

Doctor said he’d get to it, that same afternoon

Then he worked on my arm, both day and night

Till he got it just perfect, till he got it just right

Then came the day, to meet my new arm

It looked just like the one I had previously harmed

An identical replica of my former limb

(before it was trashed, and thrown in the bin)

Oh I was so happy, and strait on it went

The arm was so perfect, all smooth, not a dent

My life close to normal, I was happy until,

He pulled out some paper and showed me…

The   BILL