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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Experience · #824377
Dealing with the courage and fear of going under the knife. In other words surgury.

Shadowed walls
Concrete floors
Dark cold rooms
Echoing halls

2 A.M.
All alone
Frightened, panicking
I want to go home

Morning brings paranoia
Doctors in green coats
Nurses with needles
I’m totally freaking out

Scientific language
A lot of bull shit
Rolled down to O.R.
My life is ending

Bright lights
Sickening smells
Shiny instruments
Prolonged Hell

Holding back tears
Trying to be strong
Clasping fists tightly
Praying nothing goes wrong

I breathe deeply
Just like the doctor says

Is that a tunnel ahead?

Eyes slowly open
I made it
I survived
The sun shines brightly…
That’s always a good sign

Someone was with me
From the other side
Telling me not to worry
It just wasn’t my time

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/824377