Angel R.N.
Heaven sent me an angel in a surgical gown
With ease, I walked into her arms
Down marble hallways, feet cold on the floor
Backside cool from the draft, to my room
Her gentle hands laid me, down in a bed
With a smile, she put me at ease
She opened my shirt, exposing my chest
'Count backwards beginning with ten'
With her hands on my face
Bright lights start to fade
And monitors begin their work
'No general needed, turn off the gas'
I dream I'm hearing her speak
I force open my eyes, as she puts down the scalpel
'I think I will just use my hands'
I feel pain, as she spreads open my ribs
The girl has her hands in my cage
She grabs hold of her prize, looks down at my face
With a look, I have seen, once before
Then with knowledge and skill, a flick of the wrist
She pulls and rips out... my life
Looking down from below, at the cold marble floor
The plasma, the gauze and the gloves
Heaven sent me an angel in a surgical gown
And now I'm minus a heart
interesting and unique poem.
This is one of my favorites of yours. You can never disappear into the raging torrent of writers; your voice is too unique.
The age-old trauma of a broken heart given an eye-opening, breath-taking new angle - I love it!
I love the new picture, Fireman!
A delightfully fresh look at losing the heart to love... it had my attention right from the start.
This piece is very gripping, excuse the pun, but you had me from the onset. Great writing.