A silly poem I wrote for my English class. It's called a 'Sliding Door' poem, where you describe in poem format (not neccesarily rhyming) about something that you wish you could do, but know you never will.

CONCERNING GRAPE-FLAVORED FLUORIDE

Palms sweaty

Nervous trembling

Suspicious glances

Dentist to my right.

Quirk in his cheeks

Gleam in his eye

He’s got to be grinning

Behind that paper mask.

Just as I think

The tension can’t get more unbearable

He calmly asks,

“What flavor?”

He means the fluoride

And I think

With a scowl

Oh, we’re showing

Chivalry now?

It used to be that

You only gave us one choice,

Grape,

That was really

An exiler of DEATH.

OR

If we didn’t choose death,

THE ROOT CANAL

With a drill,

Never meant for teeth,

Or even anything living at all.

Having not taken

My Happy Pills,

As prescribed that morning,

I sit up in a flash,

Ignoring the humiliating bib

The nurse has previously

Chained around my neck

As it flaps awry,

And the thin chain digs

Into my skin.

I stare down the dentist,

Who has a quizzical look

On his face.

I grab the tube of fluoride

From his hand,

And seeing the label

On it,

I shout in his face,

“IT’S BEEN GRAPE ALL ALONG!

You weren’t even going

To let me have a choice!

No matter if I said

Mint,

Mango,

Peach,

Lime,

Strawberry

Or any other flavor

Invented by God,

YOU WERE GOING TO MAKE ME EAT

THAT GRAPE SLIME!”

I take a deep sucking breath

Grab the dentist and fling

HIM into the torture chair.

I unscrew the cap

Of the Fluoride of Doom,

Pry open his mouth

And squirt it ALL in!

When the contents

Have been expended

On his miserable mouth

I take his jaw

And make it close

So he must

Face the ENTIRE AGONY

Of the Grapes of Wrath.

“HOW DO YOU LIKE IT

HUH?”

I exclaim with glee

A hysterical laughter

Rising in me.

What’s next?

I think,

The pliers,

The drill?

Or, heaven forbid

THE SCISSORS.

Grabbing hold of them

From atop his little desk

I pry his mouth open again

The stench of the

Grapey, putrid mess

Filling the room

And I almost gag

But I stick the scissors

RIGHT IN HIS FACE!

“Remember the time

When you used these on ME?

After you so carefully

Removed my wisdom teeth last spring?

It took you FOREVER

To get that last thread out

From the stitches in my mouth

So listen carefully, okay?

Don’t you

EVER

EVER

EVER

Stick these in my mouth

EVER AGAIN!”

But instead of doing this

I smile sweetly and say

“Grape, please.”

Just to appease him.