Today’s prompt asks me to incorporate a commonly used phrase relating to a profession in my poem.
Legal-ish
Your Honour,
Legalese is not difficult,
It’s inaccessible.
And yes the Law was supposed to be for the common man,
But so was Medicine and Healthcare,
Yet no Uncle complains when he reads the shabby handwriting an
M.B.B.S. passes onto him after a check-up
Where he understands where he little.
Forget that Your Honour,
He doesn’t complain when the Pharmacist insists
That the substitute he offers is the
Perfect substitute to the drug the Doctor prescribed.
But here
That same Uncle,
He claims I steal his money and prolong his cases
Because every time we go to Court he sees another
Date slapped on his face.
Your Honour,
Please tell him I can’t do anything about that.
Or slap him with a fine.
Or worse, give him another date,
The look on his face will be divine.
Tejas Rao 