With painted smile, I shake your hand, dear Sir

It’s just a part of my profession’s code.

I’d rather pound you down, you worthless cur

The kindest of us could almost explode

“Suspected Non-Accidental Trauma,”

So says the highly cautious rhetoric.

The abject terror of my patient’s mama

Behind your handshake lurks a lunatic.

Indifference in your heart makes ours burn wild

Protective angels flaming in full force

But don’t mistake our countenance for mild,

Just recognize we must maintain the farce

Together, we can save his wounded brain

If only your hard heart could feel his pain


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