The Dental Visit
In the middle of the room stood the white metal chair
Designed to deliver the best dental care,
But she stood there immobile, unable to move
Toward the object of torture that was likely to prove
To be frightful, exhausting and life threatening too,
As the hygienist invaded her body anew.
“Let me help you.” The voice said as a hand touched her arm and
Guided her forward with arising alarm
To that monster before her with a history of pain
She had sworn to avoid and see never again.
As she sat there she knew that her pulse was increasing
While weakness expanded with blood pressure decreasing.
Her breathing grew shallow and her skin felt much colder
When a masculine hand firmly pressed on her shoulder.
“It’s alright.” Said the voice from behind the white mask.
“I’ll be gentle as this cleaning is a most simple task.”
But the eyes were uncaring, the brows dark with gloom
Providing no comfort in the sanitized room.
Large fingers penetrate as her jaw opens wide
For the scraping and picking to go on inside
With a speed and a hurry and a schedule to meet,
The hygienist leans forward while still on his seat
The pain in her jaw hit so quick and severe
And her groan brought no comfort, only increased her fear
As rough hands did their duty and worked on her teeth
Caring nothing for feelings that lay underneath.
She could hear heavy breathing as he plied with his skill
For to finish more quickly and to give her the bill.
She could do nothing else as she sat there afraid,
So she folded her hands while she silently prayed.
Copyright © Gerald Greene | Year Posted 2016
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