menash mohan shrestha
Happy Nurse Day - Poem by menash mohan shrestha
In my death bed, hell is here.
Tossing and turning with my bedsore.
Like flipping and burning in the frying pan.
Kith and kins love not me anymore.
Grieved I, when all seems to wait.
The beginning of the end of an ailing man.
With broken pieces of life in his hands.
In my after-life I met a girl.
Placing water ballons under my back.
That high compassion which can overbear.
The pain of a dying man in his bed.
Fed me, bathed me, manicured me.
With a heart of angel to soothe my grief.
Acted as a band-aid upon the fallen pieces.
She loved not me, but she cared.
Comments about Happy Nurse Day by menash mohan shrestha
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You