“It doesn’t hurt,” the mother said

He thought about the blood

His mother dragged him out of bed

And he laid like a couch spud

 

“C’mon, Thomas, it’s not that bad.”

He thought about the needle

His father encouraged, “Go, young lad.”

But he hid like a beetle

 

Mom found the boy and called the nurse

Thomas was very scared

The nurse arrived with her white purse

He made a face, teeth bared

 

The needle’s length was half an inch

And Thomas was despaired

But when it was done he realized

It only was a pinch!