The NHS, as you may guess,
Has got itself into a mess,
Too many people now fall ill,
And need to ask it for a pill.
In winter when folk get the blues,
Or maybe have a cut or bruise,
The situation gets so bad,
That an appointment that you had,
To fix at last a knee or hip,
That might cause you to fall or trip,
Might be postponed but never fear,
They’ll probably do it next year.
This happens every winter-time,
As you are learning in this rhyme,
And so perhaps you might have thought,
They’d not always have to resort,
To drastic action quite like this,
So people their appointments miss.
But the truth if it can be told,
Is that we are all getting old,
And so the pressure on its purse,
Is steadily just getting worse.
There’s not a lot that we can do,
We could die younger, that is true,
But mostly we’re not keen on this,
Preferring to appointments miss.
Of choices this is p’rhaps the best,
For if you’ve got a dodgy chest,
Although it really isn’t great,
Perhaps your knee will have to wait.
Photo – http://www.youtube.com