A/N: Disclaimer: (Grits teeth and shakes fists) One day...ONE DAY!!!!

I think the word 'random' just got a whole new meaning :D It's my first Doctor Who poem with a vague christmassy reference...

Dear Mr. Dalek

Dear Mr. Dalek sir,
I'm hoping you are well.
I myself am doing fine,
Though the Doctor's not so swell.

Please don't invade today,
Because the Doctor has a cold.
I think he's quite liable now,
Now he's getting old.

I try to tell him he's quite ill,
But he's not one to rest.
He says his illness doesn't matter,
And he's always as his best.

"Always at your best?" I ask,
"Beach in Cyprus, remember?"
"That was a test," he claims,
"I knew it was December."

"What's more," he continues,
Looking at me with a leer.
"It's not a simple 'cold' my friend,
"It's my man cold my dear!"

I think he's got a headache now,
He looks a little white.
He's trying to hide it though of course,
He's putting up a fight.

My handsome soldier Time Lord,
His lips have gone all pink.
And now he's started throwing up,
In the TARDIS kitchen sink.

Dear Mr. Dalek sir,
I'm reporting unto you,
The Doctor's simple man cold,
Has now become the flu.

It's looking pretty nasty now,
He just asked for a drink.
I don't think I could've saved him,
Before he collapsed into the sink.

So now Mr. Dalek sir,
I'm asking you a favour.
While he's tucked up warm in bed,
He's not the Earthen saviour.

Thank you Mr. Dalek sir,
For reading through my letter.
Merry Christmas by the way,
See you when he's better!

Yours sincerely,

Faithful companion.