"I'm feeling poorly lately for the world is full of strife!
Pray tell, beloved, what's a man to do?"
"I'll rush you to the doctor, said his ever loving wife,
For a potion that will give you health anew!"
The doctor poked and prodded the poor fellow everywhere,
And into every dark secret he pried,
His serious demeanor filled the patient with despair...
When as they left he took the wife aside...
"His condition is the gravest!" said the doctor, much concerned,
"I've seldom seen a patient so distressed!"
He suffers from anxiety, and feels he's being spurned.
Combined with an immense degree of stress!"
"And stress is deadly serious, and kills men every day,
To tell you otherwise would be to lie!
Somehow the stress must be removed, for that's the only way.
Unless it's stopped, the man will surely die!"
"But never fear, there is still hope, and much that you can do,
Serve him a lovely breakfast with a smile.
And lunch must be nutritious and served promptly right on cue,
Like back then when he walked you down the aisle.
Be loving, kind and courteous, and try not to annoy
Him with problems that might make his temper fray.
Don't bother him with all those chores that he would not enjoy,
For he has likely had a trying day!
And most of all, when evening falls, you must be nice to him,
Several times a week, or maybe more.
Be caring, aquiescent, cater to his every whim,
And in less than a year you should restore...
Your husband and companion to his former healthy state,
An he will thrive again for many years!"
...When later enroute home with her, he asked her to relate
What news she had to help allay his fears...
"What did the doctor say, my love, what fate did he imply?
She said, "You must be brave my love, he said you're going to die!