Poem

Poem #7This poem won ’t fix everything.It won ’t make it hurt any less.The wound will heal at its own paceRinse, clean white gauze, wet to dry.Eat well, nutrition, restSleep when the sun sets.It takes time.You must fill this empty spaceWith words and lines While you wait.  Those old jagged scarsAre markers of timeThe spaced minutesOn a clock ’s faceThe hash marks etched Into the gray wall of your solitary cell10/3/19

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - October 2, 2019 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs