While fishing through a lot of old papers in my mom's home, I found a poem. She got it during a doctor's visit. Its about breasts.

For years and years they told me
"Be careful of your breasts.
Don't ever squeeze them or bruise them
and give them monthly test."

So I heeded all their warnings
And protected them by law,
Guarded them very carefully
and always wore a bra.

After 30 years of careful care,
The doctor found a lump.
He ordered up a mammogram
to look inside that clump.

"Stand up very close," she said
as she got my tit in line,
"and tell me when it hurts," she said
"Ah yes! There! That's just fine."

She stepped upon a pedal...
I could not believe my eyes!
A plastic plate was pressing down
My boob was in a vice!

My skin was stretched and stretched
from way up by my chin.
and my poor tit was being squashed
to Swedish pancake thin!

Excruciating pain i felt,
within its vice like grip.
A prisoner in this vicious thing,
My poor defenseless tit!

"Take a deep breath," she said to me.
Who does she think she's kidding?
My chest is smashed in her machine,
I cant breathe and woozy I am getting.

"There, that was good," i heard her say
As the room was slowly swaying.
"Now lets get the other one."
Lord have mercy I was praying.

It squeezed me from the up and down.
It squeezed me from both sides.
I'll bet she never had this done
to her tender little hide.

If i had no problem when i came in,
I surely have one now...
If there had been a cyst in there
it would have popped- Per Pow!

This machine was made by a man.
Of this i have no doubt....
I'd like to get his balls in there.
For months he'd go without.

• Anonymous

Enjoy folks, and i dare someone to make a poem on male proctology exams.