Second Opinion

No curse can haunt an undecided man the more
than what he knows in his simple mind, for sure.
When told of a diagnosis in his uneducated ear
he lives in his head with a self indulgent fear.
Squandering his existence with no daily exchanges
wasting away with worry as his inner fever rages!

Relying only on memories to fill his waking day
with no sleeping dreams to pass the night away.
God forbid that such a sad person could ever be,
might only be on death’s course, God forbid me!
Yet what greater sin can a knowing man commit
that to take a square peg to a round hole to fit?

More fool I to naively believe a single physician
best that I, for my mind, seek a second opinion.
I’m more afraid than ever when the final test comes
I’m so afraid I shiver, as each nerve end succumbs.
How worry can play tricks till a man is near insane
turning a troubled mind inside out and back again!

What sweet relief fills a wronged man’s simple mind
when a specialist admits he has made a wrong find.
Now in my contempt I feel an awakening inner storm
an injured rage, though without malice to its form.
In silence I suffered so long, now it is so strange
living in this metamorphosis tingling mind change!

Echoes of my past surround my weary soul ascending
summoning my return to life, wasted time undefending.
Exciting me, reminding me I am no longer near death,
sighing gratefully, sidestepping the reapers cold breath.
The curse, my curse, is lifted from this simple mind
though the thought of it, the very memory is unkind!

sonofadam