Classic Poem

Sure , a little bit of shrapnel fell from out the sky one day,
And it nestled in my shoulder in a quaint and loving way,
And when the doctor saw it, it looked so sweet and fair,
He said, ‘Suppose we leave it for it looks so peaceful there’.
Then he painted it with iodine to keep the germs away,
It's the only way to treat it, no matter what they say.
But early the next morning he changed his fickle mind,
And he marked me down for duty and he sent me up the line.