I Really Mish My Teesh
I always looked after them whilst growing up,
Until I was about twelve years old,
Now at night they are stored in a cup,
The very thought of that leaves me so cold.
I started adulthood with 32 teeth,
All perfect in every way,
White on top, the same underneath,
Not one of them showed signs of decay.
I brushed them on occasion if I felt the need,
But mostly I left them alone,
Mainly after a bevy or perhaps a feed,
Main thing is they were all my own.
Dental hygiene was there but it wasn't great,
But so what, they weren't that bad,
Despite all the warnings I have to now state,
My attitude was totally mad.
I kept being told I had really bad breath,
But I never took heed of the link,
When they said in truth it smells of death,
I blamed it on the fags and the drink.
I ignored the warnings they were under attack,
A decision I would live to regret,
Before I knew it they were covered in plaque,
With oral problems I was now beset.
I kept getting toothache time and again,
It's an affliction that is truly ill gotten,
How did I manage to stand that pain,
Knowing it was my teeth, which were rotten.
The sweet things the booze and the cigarettes,
Had left my teeth in tatters,
It's entirely my fault as nobody forgets,
Looking after them should be all that matters.
I could no longer smile, as I felt so ashamed,
My teeth were worn out and black,
My gums were sore and terribly inflamed,
Too far gone to find a way back.
I couldn't enjoy my food any more,
Cold drinks were a thing of the past,
Eating anything had became such a chore,
I now wish I had made my teeth last.
[...] Read more
poem by Bri Mar
Added by Poetry Lover
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