A Squeeze On Me (Fun Poem 48)

I had a machine on my arm
and every half hour
it put the squeeze on me.
The Doctor wanted
a twenty-four hour monitor
on my BP.
Not the fuel for my car,
but the fuel in my body
for me.
This machine had a mind
of its own,
if it didn’t like
the first reading it got,
it squeezed a bit harder
until it got a better result
just to show me
that at it disapproved,
the problem was
there was nothing I could do,
but just put up with it
putting the squeeze
on poor old me.

by David Harris

Comments (2)

*cheering, stomping, clapping, going crazy* *out of breath* that was BEAUTIFUL! amen! i love it! ! ! I have a fairly recent poem titled 'my guardian Angel' that I havent posted yet. Remotely similar yet not as descriptive. I absolutely ADORE your style. muy bien! Gabriela
Cool, you're love of words and music, they make life grand and hopeful!