The Doctor's Office

The office is cold, sterile

smells like the previous patient

The wait isn't bad, you get used to it

The questions keep coming like a string of tennis balls

You hope it will lead to answers

to explain your changing body

which silently moans

The answers come as quickly as the questions

The shoulders relax

The body is silent, barely a whimper

The mind is satisfied and the heart feels lighter

Thank you, Doctor

The gown and the sheet are bunched up

To prepare for the next patient

Who will endure the questions once more

Hope they too get the answers they need.