Ten
Pain managed; not at T E N!
Nor at two, four, six a.m.
Not so much a squeeze
as a labor-like pain.
Intensity of calf cramp,
beyond imagination’s stretch.
Worthwhile epidural; we will see.
Something replaced the relief.
Invasive ivy wraps around my right.
Leg in turmoil; spoils of success.
Information relays that exercise
can exacerbate; cut me a break.
Steepled hands, then knuckle hug.
How can we manage to get it right?
God knows. God knows. Good…
all that ails me will be used for good,
but meanwhile it’s very bad. Sorry
for those who groan in suffering.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
