poem

 Last ThingLast thing I writeNo one will readLast thing I holdNo one will saveLast thing I sayNo one will replyLast thing I seeWon ’t be noticedBy anyone but me Last thing I hear Dies to the silenceQuivering in my earLast thing I feelWon ’t get shared Last thing I thinkNo one will ever knowLast time we spokeLast time we touchedLast time we kissed.When you ' re lovedThere is the ache Of incomplete knowingIt ’s a special kind of suffering.This mourning of the missing And when I ’m finally goneI leave behind a wondering 9/21/22

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - September 21, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs