Johnny Johnny Jack

Johnny Johnny Jack was a hypochondriac
Each ache and pain would put him in a stew.
He drove his folks insane ‘bout the tumor in his brain,
And how his liver function was askew.

Johnny Johnny Jack was a hypochondriac.
His cabinet a banquet hall of pills.
A full colorful display that could chase his pains away.
He took day trips to pick up his refills.

Johnny Johnny Jack was a hypochondriac.
His catalogue of specialists ran thus:
From a gastroenterologist to dozens of psychologists,
They weekly met his illness to discuss.

Johnny Johnny Jack was a hypochondriac.
He weakly wheezed and whimpered while he wailed.
And his list of maladies that could cause fatalities,
Was longer than the Appalachian trail.

Johnny Johnny Jack was a hypochondriac.
He rose each day assured that he would die.
An inhaler in each hand and his nurse at his command,
He somehow did this daily doom defy.

Johnny Johnny Jack was a hypochondriac.
Though sick perhaps he lived to Ninety-two.
His body was donated when at last it was vacated.
His incurable disease to thus review.

© Rachel Svendsen 2014

Author: Rachel Svendsen

Rachel is a poet and writer from Pennsylvania, where she lives with her husband and children. Her short story "Filling the Silence" received an honorable mention in the 2019 Story Embers short story competition.

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