Quick Fix

Quick Fix

"They've fixed you" she said
Like some kind of broken toy or a smashed vase

Well I don't feel fixed

I feel experimented on, bodged up but definitely not? fixed

They put these 'metal things' in me. Stents they call them.
Opened up my body and slid them along the arteries leading to my
heart

It's all very clever you know; what they can do nowadays
Some might even say?miraculous

But it doesn't feel like a miracle to me.

It feels like a parlour trick; a cheap illusion and I'm the hapless
volunteer from the audience
A slide-show freak for the entertainment of others

'Ungrateful bastard!'
That's what people would call me if they knew what I was thinking
But it's not them they tried to fix? It's me.

Would a broken toy feel grateful for being fixed just for the amusement
of an unappreciative child?
Or the vase show it's gratitude for being stuck back together
so that it can see countless beautiful flowers wither and die once
more?

Something's can never be fixed but they'll never stop trying.

Whether you want them to or not.