The NHS is in a mess?
It's over-run by suits?
This is a plot, or, if it's not,
Out come my gravity boots.
Yes, seriously, I hang up here,
Claim hospitals aren't bust;
I'm upside down, but quite sincere.
It's what I'm full of: trust.
So tell me, why do nurses curse?
Just let me tread that ceiling!
We're sickening? Rather the reverse:
Our figures look appealing.
But when the medics agitate,
Let blood run to my brain.
My boots on, I'm a bat. It's late.
Perhaps I've gone insane.
How best to help the tale unfold,
Ensure our health's asserted?
Bring my boots. And while you're told,
I'll dangle here, inverted.