A Second Opinion

Doctor Bitter said to me,

“I’ll set those gashes free;

I’ll uncover every hurt

And add a little dirt.

Sister Spiteful thrashed you, dear—

Just wait till others hear!”

Doctor Bitter left me there

To fester in my chair.

“Will this work?” I asked a nurse.

“Those wounds will soon grow worse!

All he did was to reveal

Those cuts that couldn’t heal.”

Heading home, I had a thought:

I knew I should have brought

Hurts I had to Someone who

Would know just what to do;

My prescription from above

Is signed by Doctor Love.