The Silent Killer Poem by Melvina Germain

The Silent Killer

Rating: 5.0


Darkness fell at a most inopportune time to a woman who
thought she knew it all, but that wasn't the case. Possessed
with a character, stubborn and fixed, hardened to the core.
Casual warnings from caring family and friends, dismissed.
It was that dreaded, horrid day on a busy Monday morning
when perspiration drained and covered her brow, while
traffic backed up for miles along the trail. Nerves jolted
far beyond compare. It was when karma showed it's face
and a revelation was about to unfold.

Fragile lungs fought for air, while dry eyes lost its lustre
and fell deep into despair. The pain, the indescribable pain
struck close beneath the breasts. Thrusting hard against
the ribcage as if looking for a place to rest. Her legs danced
the St. Vitas dance and wouldn't settle down and the Charlie
horse founds its place in the calves burning the muscle deep.
Embarrassment was not the focus for there was nothing she
could do, while the bladder emptied like a faucets broken
valve and became a dead man's sack draped violently
against the front seat of a borrowed car.

Silence like an un welcomed guest filled the realm of
darkness still, and you were surrounded by a mass of people
pounding against the cold, hard steel with eyes of panic
moving lips which echoed a soundless wave. You knew
within that deep found darkness that your heart was fighting
hard, but you wondered, could your life be saved.

Suddenly a cascade of light shone bright and filtered through.
Help was present and working hard to get to you. The door
opened and caring hands pulled you gently from the car, placed
you in an ambulance and drove with speed so far.

Now you sit in a wheelchair in a home up on the hill. Though
you can not speak your mind is thinking still. You wish you
took the advice of those who truly cared. A simple thing like
a blood pressure test could have saved you all this pain and you
know you would listen now if you could do it all over again. A
stroke has left you paralysed and your voice it stole from you,
and the tears fall every night and day as you sit and think it
through. Dead without being dead is not a good quality of life,
but you may live out the rest of your years in hardship and self
inflicted strife.:

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Oct.24,2008

Author's note: When was the last time you checked your blood
pressure. Mine is 117 over 78 at the moment, please check yours.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: life
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Darwin Henry Beuning 07 June 2017

Melvina, Enjoyed your poem, a poem everyone should read. Another 10.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Melvina Germain

Melvina Germain

Sydney, Nova Scotia
Close
Error Success