The Chair of Doom By Stephen Curtis
There is sweat pouring down my face like a river
And I’m shaking all over with utter terror
Slowly, unwillingly, my feet drag me in the direction
To the place where my horrible fate lays waiting
Oh God! What have I done to deserve this?
One on each side they flank me, there is no escape
They lead me into the grey room, I cast my eyes about
There it sat, in the middle, looking deathly ominous
It was the chair of doom, waiting for me, almost alive
They escorted me to it and I had to sit myself down
The arms wrapped around as if to prevent escape
Next to it, were the instruments that would be used
Now that I was in the chair what was to happen was inevitable
It was only a matter of counting down the remaining minutes
Then I heard those dreaded words, those fateful words
“Open your mouth, let’s see which tooth is giving you trouble”
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