Our Hopes Joyfully Trotted Out
What can we buy that will cure what ails him?
We wished that we knew.
Trying treatment upon treatment.
Lotions, creams, pills, and ointments.
No relief was promised, but we were optimistic.
We expected some good results.
Our hopes were joyfully trotted out next to each treatment.
Twenty, thirty, forty times, our hopes were lifted up.
Finally dying a natural death, landing on the rocks of reality.
This is why they call it practicing medicine.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
