Oh Doctor Novocain

Oh doctor Novocain hear my precious plea
root me some molar magic
with that blessed anesthesia therapy
before you drill and thrill
and send that chill through my jaw,
let me fathom tooth fairy mercies
while you hold that needle in your hand.

Can you forgive my floss floundering,
do you have a soul for detecting decay
that can caress my enamel,
bewitch my bicuspids
so I don’t dwell in pain’s pit?

Woe to me that I should confess
all the tooth transgressions
of my mouth’s misguided ways,
for I sit here before you
a mere mortal of marred means,
just clinging to this frail hope
there is grace in your implements,
forgiveness in your tools.

Now take me to that numbed bliss
let me lie in its layer of comatose illusions,
tell me sweet lies that it will all be okay
until I wake to the swollen gum consequences
over my failed vigilance in dental proclivities.