I went in for a checkup, and the doctor said to me:
“I must say, your condition’s grave, in utmost honesty.
Your eyes are shot, your blood is clot, your sniffer sniffs no more.
On every artery there’s a blockage, every limb a sore.
Your hair is gray and falling out, your chins, once one, are three,
Repairing your legs is a task best solved by surgery.
Your breath is vile and smells of bile, blood’s leaking out your nose,
And if you’re even still alive, you’re surely in death’s throes.”
He gave me some syringes, and a few (though potent) pills,
I nearly died there on the spot when I saw my checkup bill!