The Man
I looked into
my surgeon soul
In there
I saw the reflection
of life
The yellow eyes
of jaundice
The fetid breath
of diabetes
The sickly smell
of gangrene
I looked again
The calm face
of death
The wet feel
of birth
If you don’t know
ask the leeches
swimming in the pool
of my blood
Ask the man
in the white shroud
waiting at the gate
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