Short Neurosurgeon Poems

Pain
gloomy
in their eyes
i saw and felt.
Bed one, two and more                     
men, women in white gowns 
coming to and fro, caring.
In bed seven i saw, Daisy
gorgeous and alive, you can't expect
she'd be here needing a neurosurgeon....

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I had the neurosurgeon do a little utility work in my head.
The electricity in there had somewhat gone dead.
And the duct that dripped a driblet of water on my brain ~
she was able to fixed with great industry and pain.
But as to how that foul gas smell got there ~
she was at odds to explain....

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Emotion has no place in the operating room, emotion cost lives.
Every time emotion comes into play, patients needlessly die.
In the operating room I am an emotionless machine.
I have a success rate that no neurosurgeon has ever seen,
and when I return home, I continue to be,
this total void of emotion human being.
I am a functioning psychopath,
pushed by my environment towards a direction of a positive path....

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When her vision began to blur
She thought a trip to the Optometrist was the cure
But upon her visit she got bad news
It was a tumor that was blurring her views

She would need a neurosurgeon
To correct this situation
Her surgery was scheduled in two weeks
She hoped the outcome wouldn't be bleak

Family and friends gathered by her bedside
Prayers and tears were supplied
Everyone seemed calm, though they were in shock
Suddenly.... she was awoken by her alarm clock!.........

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The weatherman predicts some snow;
He calls for about three inches.
Must be great playing god, to know
How much will fall, but that’s show biz.
I know one thing: if I were wrong
As often as the weathermen
I wouldn’t have my job that long.
They screw-up time and time again
And still manage to keep working.
Imagine a neurosurgeon
Working on your head one morning
As inept as the weathermen.
Perish the thought! Some comfort though
If they call for it, it won’t snow....

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