Diagnosis
Just a small but nagging pain
that wouldn’t go away,
but ‘she’ll be right’- so I thought,
until my judgment day.
My judgment day was not the end;
no not eternal life,
it was the day I’m diagnosed
to mention I’m in strife.
Beneath the surface questions rise.
Could I be dying? Will I live?
As I consider what may be,
and all is negative.
And negative I’m told is bad,
but how else can I feel!
I’m diagnosed - but deep inside,
I don’t believe it’s real.
And yet the folk I run beside
who know my feeling well,
forever talk the positive …
dismissing what is hell.
And as each day is passing by
since diagnosing took my breath.
The best advice I have so far -
is diagnosis isn’t death!
Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment