Charles Monroe

Curandero - Poem by Charles Monroe

Best wishes for your health regained.
It seems that we are all in pain;
Each in our own special way
Some tomorrow, some today.
I am wounded from the heart
And my hospital is Art.
Medicine pollutes my air
And a nurse who does not care
All in all, I'm grateful still;
For the love I'm blessed to spill
Or the love I've witnessed go
Left me Gently as a doe,
Now, reclined in mild merlot
Dressed in garments of defeat
In some holocaust pajamas
Just the smoke, the night, and me.
Everyone is ill some how
As a moth inside a mouth
Heed the words; a velvet pure,
Poems is the only cure.

Topic(s) of this poem: health

Comments about Curandero by Charles Monroe

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Monday, April 14, 2014

Poem Edited: Monday, April 14, 2014

[Report Error]