Under The Knife

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Dysfunctional Poetry

Upon awakening on the day of routine surgery


Under The Knife 


Lost in the shadows

Of morning

Overcome by demons

And doubt

It’s too late to heed any wisdom

Or warning

As I surrender 

To the doctors devout


Reaching the end

Of my reason

I pause to reflect

On what’s left of my life

There’s no wind

In this winter season 

While I’m waiting 

To go under the knife


There’s no predetermining 

My Prognosis 

I might come away clean

Or not at all

The surgeon skillfully

Dangles his diagnosis 

While I wait 

For the other shoe to fall


Tomorrow’s a bumpy road

To recovery 

With the sunrise

I’ll awaken again

Diligent doctors discovery 

Having revealed

The cause if not

The source of my pain



12 June 2020

Submitted: June 12, 2020

© Copyright 2021 ShadyBrady. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Hope it goes okay, SB.

Fri, June 12th, 2020 7:32pm


I’m here now. (I guess that’s true pretty much ALL of the time.) But what I mean is that I’m laying here semi nekid waiting to be wheeled away to have all kinds of mean nasty things done to my body while I lay here unconscious. So I’ve got THAT going for me.

Fri, June 12th, 2020 2:48pm

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