I think that I shall never see
A dentist that appeals to me.
A dentist who in summer wears
A cheery smile to banish cares,
While in his hand he holds that drill
And contemplates which tooth to fill.
I clutch the chair arms, knuckles white;
Anticipate his moves with fright.
With pleasant talk he tries distraction;
My frozen mind won’t budge a fraction.
My jaw is locked ten inches wide
With cotton wads all stuffed inside.
Mid needles, drills and dental clatter
He gets right to the heart of matter.
As minutes, oh so slowly, tick,
My lip gets thicker, thicker, thick.
At last he’s done, I’m free to go!
I hope my swollen lip won’t show.
Oh, teeth are filled by men like he –
Appointments just by folks like me!