Med Poetry Healing through Words

Browsing Category: Pain

His Pneumogastric Nerve

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UPON an average, twice a week,
When anguish clouds my brow.
My good physician friend I seek
To know “what ails me now.”

The Blind Man

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The beauties of nature were once dear to me,
But they have all vanished as I cannot see;
Their beauty and form are all stamped in my mind,
But I cannot see them, because I am blind…

Doctors

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Every night I lie awake
And every day I lie abed
And hear the doctors, Pain and Death,
Conferring at my head…