The Patient Poem by Melanie Emikohe
The Patient
Love's my offense, booted me
to a ward, with hearts waning;
and surgeons are numbered
to attend to all who are weeping.
Met a patient who's been there
for twelve years; spits the pills,
pulls the tubes. Opted to stay,
nursing grief by recollections.
And me, I trust prescriptions
that my lame heart will pump
again. Yes, there was sorrow,
also beauty, hues everywhere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:41:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
maybe just a slight dash of pretense.. but you never overdo it. ~~sjg