This is one of my rhyming riddles, and it does have an answer if you know where to look. It doesn't just up and disappear on you.
Tell me, oh reader,
Of riddling rhyme
Of what do I speak of
In the SciFi line?
Travelling on,
In blue box galore
This is the order
Of that it is sure.
The first was old age,
For he was an old man.
The second, in shame,
By his own people’s hand.
The third, not arachnid,
But radiation’s foul bite.
The fourth was a fall
From a towering height.
The fifth, from a fungal
Poisonous hand.
The sixth was the result
Of a forced crash land.
The seventh, a gunshot,
And MD befuddled
The eighth is a mystery
We have yet to unmuddle.
The ninth, to save one
From godlike powers.
The tenth, well, almost,
But not at this hour.
All ten of these men,
With medical name
Share the character
Identity the same.
There’s a question that’s obvious
To more than a few,
But I shall not ask it,
For it has the best clue.
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