SICK BILL

 

There once was a pirate named Bill,

Who was seasick

And terribly ill.

He then came to note,

That a lifetime on boats,

Was not the best job he could fill.

 

So Bill went to work in the mines,

But the blackness

Was not a good sign.

Afraid of the murk,

He was in the wrong work!

There was nothing to do but resign.

 

He took up a job as the host

Of a lighthouse

That sat on the coast.

But scared of the height

Of the tower of light,

He had to abandon his post.

 

Then he tried as a vet.

He was certain

This was a good bet.

But then had to dash

When he got a red rash,

A reaction to everyone’s pets.

 

Poor Bill had nothing but dreams.

It was hopeless

To have any schemes.

Whatever he tried

His body replied

By falling apart at the seams

 

Then a doctor saw him and spoke

‘Heavens above,

You’re the bloke!

To help my research,

Into sickness at work.

We could cure the world at a stroke!’

 

They both got rich from their finds

That they made for

The good of mankind.

Now everyday Bill

Gets to take a new pill

And be ill whenever inclined.