Cancer Ward Poem by John F. McCullagh
Cancer Ward
Antiseptic… white… clean….
Instruments of Stainless steel
.A lazy oscillating light
tracks my heartbeat on a screen.
A long thin needle on the tray
Fascinates my captive stare
Like the cobra with its prey
It will strike me deep this day
The air is institutional
the smell of fear and doom
My king pursued by the pawns of Death
we play my endgame in this room.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/6/2024 7:51:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
