Our names wiill come up on a glowing screen
This is why we fund the NHS
Everyone wants fame, to be a scream
But I just want post traumatic congress
I sit down peering furtively, bizarrely
Eventually I’m sitting there alone
I knew I’d not fit in that group of monsters
I am hyper vigilant when I’m at home
Now I feel both desolate and rejected
They did not want my blood , it is too red
Then I found myself ejected
Without a lump of honey on my bread
The doctor wanted 20 different readings
At this rate it will take forever more
I see a mist of red, my temper’s rising
Help me to the flexi- exit door
