You’re lying face down on the floor

Surrounded by your crimson gore

You think for sure your nose is broke

Could be now’s the time to croak.

 

How could this have come about?

If you had energy you’d shout.

You tripped across a carpet rolled

And now the drama will unfold.

 

Ministering angels come to aid

At the sight of blood they’re unafraid.

They help you till the ambos come,

They’re here at last – no, only one.

 

Off to the hospital you go

And then begins a tale of woe

In a wheelchair there you sit,

You’ll be seen in just a bit.

 

Or so you think; the clock ticks on,

You’re waiting and it seems so long

Since all this happened, but at last

Someone appears, but, not so fast –

 

It’s only to take down your details,

Time drags on, as slow as snails,

When then appears your daughter dear

Who comes to offer help and cheer.

 

We wait some more, then she asks.

Officialdom, they’ve many tasks,

You could be here much longer still –

We don’t hang around and chill.

 

We’re out the door to see a Doc

For we’re not waiting round the clock.

At last we’re seen, and stitched and clean

And x-rayed, was it all a dream?

 

No, more like a nightmare!