The Final Study Session
The pens are capped, the ink is still,
A different world demands my will.
The rhythmic beat of a rhyming line
Must yield to codes and a strict design.
Between the pages of anatomy,
I'll miss the pull of poetry-
The way a stanza feels like home,
The freedom in a wandering poem.
But ICD-10 and billing guides
Are where my focus now resides.
Though Tampa's stage is far away,
The heart still marks this April day.
A quiet desk, a steady light,
Through every long and studious night,
I trade my metaphors for skill,
Climbing up this final hill.
So if my voice should drift away,
Know I'm counting down the days
Until the exam is passed and done,
And the battle for the cap is won.
The poems will wait, the ink will stay,
Until I've earned my April 26th.
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