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Abbas Mar 2020
In times like these we must beware,
for we know not when end is near,
know your purpose in this world,
for time has come to be sincere.
To all those people fighting bold,
whose days are long and nights are cold,
for you and I they risk their lives,
so now’s the time to make them smile.
Give them strength and power too,
for we know not what they go through.
Show respect, support them too:
to all those angels, we need you.
For all those who risk their lives every single day for the safety of others: you are special in this world and you need to be told that. The world must show its gratitude to the warriors that help get humanity through unimaginable crises such as the prevailing one. They deserve love, respect and appreciation.
Ladyink Dec 2019
You were a tender loving
Physician
I was training to be a coroner
You saw my beauty
Both inside and own
But when i left
You were
Saying
My cemetary girl
My cemetery woman
My cemetery beauty
I want you in my world
Hearing those pleas
Saying that you
Love me
Just breaks my heart
Even more my love
Mark Toney Nov 2019
Doctor's
Boxers
6/4/2018 - My footle poem phase continues.  I promise it will be brief :) -Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Why do mechanics need manuals when they’ve fixed it before?
Answer my question or I’ll walk out the door!
Didn’t they attend trade schools or get O.J.T.?
Why need repair manuals?  That what gets me.
I just want a mechanic who won’t refer to a book.
Just fix my car already, don’t give it a second look!

Why do pilots run checklists and reference their charts?
Just push the dang button and hope the plane starts!
Didn’t they go to flight school and pass all the tests?
Pilots fly most days, so who needs all that mess?
I want a pilot who knows without referencing a chart.
Just get on with the flying and prove that you’re smart!

What about the doctors who are practicing still?
Why can’t they get it right?  And that includes the bill!
They’re always researching new studies in journals
When time’s better spent attending patients’ internals.
I just want a Marcus Welby, Ben Casey or Kildare
Instead of keeping up to date, I just want them to care.

Why do lawyers review case studies and legal decisions?
Such antics in my book leave them open to derision.
All that studying in law school should have been enough.
After passing the bar they should already know their stuff.
I just want an attorney who’s a know-it-all ace,
Not a book worm mouthpiece to plead my case.

Finally, the poets, being wordsmiths their art
You won’t see them referencing a checklist or chart
But look, in their hands, just what can that be?
A dictionary?  Thesaurus?  Are those what I see?
A real poet never needs help reading Shakespeare or Keats
Using Webster and Roget would make all of us cheats!
If a poet is real, the words should just flow
I think that all poets should automatically know
The right words to use, and literary crutches forgo
How dare they try better vocabulary to hone
They should come up with good things to say on their own.
I’m looking for poets who’ll just know what to say
Like Lewis Carroll’s poems in his heyday:
“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogroves, And the mome raths outgrabe.”

Don’t bother looking up his words, for that would be a dumb thing.
Using a dictionary or thesaurus, you might actually learn something!
1/1/2018 - Poetry form: Rhyme - This poem is an exaggeration full of satire and hyperbole. I wrote it in response to what I read someone say concerning the use of a dictionary and thesaurus by poets. They said that real poets don't need them. I was so astonished and shocked by that statement (since I use the dictionary and thesaurus all the time) that I decided to write a poem extending that idea to other professions, such as mechanics, pilots, doctors, lawyers and poets. Of course, all of these professions need to continue to keep up to date, be accurate and precise. I conclude the poem with the excerpt from Lewis Carroll’s nonsensical poem “Jabberwocky” to drive home the point. My last two lines say it all.
I’m feeling this way,
I don’t yet know how to escape
Yet I know it will evade at some point,
I’ve been drifting in and out,
Without much sound,
For maybe a year now, maybe only a second.
Should I think it’s an overstatement?
Is that what I’ve been lead to know?
Or is it just my mind bringing false accusations to surface?
Could it be because people want to doubt me,
Or because I assume if it’s happened to me it’s just a little bit, it’s only small; it doesn’t matter,
Not at all.

Three years? Four or five? Maybe none,
It’s not real, this doesn’t count.
Anxiety. It’s anxiety they said.
We’ll give you these pills,
Because you’re complaining about something else,
But we won’t acknowledge that.
You feel terrible, but we’ll say we’re treating the thing that you’ve put in some sort of remission.
Listen, listen. Why do they never listen?

It’s not that bad. How do I word it?
I could say I feel dead, but not really,
It’s been worse before,
So I don’t feel like I can use that description anymore.
It will go away soon,
I should be happy.
Actually, should I? I should feel tragic.
I do but I feel good sometimes too.
Why am I trying? No one who sees this will understand.
How about, it’s this:
I want to do something but I don’t feel like anything.
I don’t feel good but it’s not anxiety -
it’s been trickling in, but not this time, it’s not just that.
Maybe my emotions have just gone underground today,
Maybe it thought it would match to how I’m physically feeling.
I woke up so exhausted, I told someone I’m sick,
Still sick,
And they said being tired doesn’t make you sick,
But this isn’t normal tiredness,
This isn’t feeling down so your body can’t be bothered either,
This is one way of what it can feel like
When your body’s done with you,
And mines been done a long time,
But never long enough to care,
And in a decade it still won’t be time,
But I guess I should be content because
It’s only been five-hundred-and-thirty-two days.

I know no one will believe me, but maybe that’s okay,
For now,
After all, I can’t say any of these things out loud.
Like monsters, they would all surround me, laughing maliciously,
Thinking they were right,
They’re not, but how much longer do I have to put up a fight?
No one can know if I feel stressed or upset,
Not sad because then their army will have ammunition,
Meanwhile I have nothing.
Nothing, give me something,
But actually no, maybe I can’t take anymore false hope,
Because everyone, all of them, have ******* me over,
Time and time again.
They think I’m stressed, I’m not ill,
So if I say I’m starting to become stressed, unhappy, not good...
Well I don’t know what will happen,
They’ve already destroyed every single part of me.
I don’t want to give them more reasons to disbelieve my honesty.
Axel Sep 2019
When we found each other,
We were a mess, hair was muffled,
Eyes were swollen and heart was broken.

We were like medicine,
Or I'd say we're the doctors
And at the same time we were the hospital.

Our hearts were our patient,
I put a little bit of iodine love in you
But I guess yours healed first,
Leaving me alone in this hospital
Without any medication
And so much expectations.

I didn't have the money
To pay the bill
So I gave up my surgery,
Letting my patient die alone,
Slowly and lonely.

Did you came to visit?
Did you came to pray?
Did you came to wish a 'get well soon'?
Did you bring her too?
Well if you're happy then I'll be happy for you.
Thank you my medicine,
My doctor,
My hospital,
For everything we've been through,
Make her happy and treat her patient
Carefully with love for serenity
And promise me you'll love her
Until the day you die,
And always say 'I love you' everytime.
wrote this at 1am
Starry Aug 2019
I want to know you hurt me as a lover
I want to know why your hurt innocent people
Who did your people no wrong
Why do you have to hurt innocent children girls
For what
Jihad???!!
Islam????!!!
The hippocratic oath????!!
More like jihadist oath.
Geary evans Jul 2019
I don't want to think about it
Please don't let me see it
It must be a bad dream
You were supposed to be there
What will I tell you my future kids
I want to go i will not pull the plug
Where ever you are auntie i love you o pray God brought us together again
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