A/N: Disclaimer: (Grits teeth and shakes fists) One day...ONE DAY!!!!
I think the word 'random' just got a whole new meaning :D It's my first Doctor Who poem with a vague christmassy reference...
Dear Mr. Dalek
Dear Mr.
Dalek sir,
I'm
hoping you are well.
I myself
am doing fine,
Though the
Doctor's not so swell.
Please
don't invade today,
Because
the Doctor has a cold.
I think
he's quite liable now,
Now he's
getting old.
I try to
tell him he's quite ill,
But he's
not one to rest.
He says
his illness doesn't matter,
And he's always as his best.
"Always
at your best?" I ask,
"Beach
in Cyprus, remember?"
"That
was a test," he claims,
"I knew it was December."
"What's
more," he continues,
Looking at
me with a leer.
"It's
not a simple 'cold' my friend,
"It's
my man cold my dear!"
I think
he's got a headache now,
He looks a
little white.
He's
trying to hide it though of course,
He's
putting up a fight.
My
handsome soldier Time Lord,
His lips
have gone all pink.
And now
he's started throwing up,
In the
TARDIS kitchen sink.
Dear Mr.
Dalek sir,
I'm
reporting unto you,
The
Doctor's simple man cold,
Has now
become the flu.
It's
looking pretty nasty now,
He just
asked for a drink.
I don't
think I could've saved him,
Before he
collapsed into the sink.
So now Mr.
Dalek sir,
I'm
asking you a favour.
While he's
tucked up warm in bed,
He's not
the Earthen saviour.
Thank you
Mr. Dalek sir,
For
reading through my letter.
Merry
Christmas by the way,
See you
when he's better!
Yours sincerely,
Faithful companion.