Hands That Heal
With steady hands and hearts that care,
A doctor walks where few would dare.
In silence they listen, in chaos they stand,
Mending the body with a gentle hand.
Through sleepless nights and endless calls,
They rise above, no matter the falls.
The scalpel’s edge, the patient’s plea,
They carry it all, with quiet dignity.
In every life saved, in every soul healed,
A doctor’s purpose is quietly revealed.
Not for glory, nor for praise,
But for the hope that guides their days.
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