Rummaging Poem by nicola burkett

His hand rummaging inside pumping my broken heart,
Trying to keep the blood flow, trying to make it start
They need to move quick, i'm running out of time
Because i've already died twice in the last fifty nine.
Lying helplessly on the cold steel table
If i die here will my life be told in a myth or a fable
The man with his hands rummaging inside
The rules of the norm he cannot abide
His frizzy grey hair, his thick rimmed specticals
Those who don't agree he just dismisses as fools
For my life in the hands of an eccentric madman
If he Cannot cure me then nobody can
If it wasn't for you i wouldn't be here
But my heart breaks whenever your near