mangraphic_unextraordinarybint

Nine Days – Poem

Nine days waiting added to the seventeen years

Should seem like no time at all

Yet, as age passes as each second falls

Can my life be returned?

The question, it burns.

The question, like the pain, returns.

Futile distractions

Dampen anger’s call to action

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Actually written back in August when I was waiting to see if I would be seen by the surgical team.