The Doctors' Care Poem by Thabani Khumalo

In the dawn of day,
Staggering off a slight drunken haze,
I saw the hand of death beckon me
Into a journey which no man ever returned;
a thing I knew not how to gear for.

When I got run down
And enclosed into a facility
In which I was conveyed by the noisy ambulance
That blared my brains by the siren noise
And gave my body to the doctors’ care
To do with it the things they know,

I knew for sure my soul I had sold
For all they know is to run it void
And all they know is the tutor’s trend.
O god in heaven, have mercy on my soul.