The Ode of Phineas Gage

This is the story of Phineas Gage, A man who died at quite a young age, But his death is not what he’s famous for, His fame comes from what went years before. Working the railroad, he was struck by a rod, Only survived, some say, by the grace of God. For the iron “crowbar” shot through his head, It’s a miracle, he didn’t end up dead. Three feet of metal, faster than a train, Passed through his mouth, and then his brain, Before exiting fully, this damaging probe, Removed half of his left frontal lobe. The poor man was thrown onto his back, There he convulsed, like snakes in a sack, Minutes passed, and then he talked, And with little assistance, he then walked. Into town, via oxcart, transported, A physician attended, or so was reported, Disbelief, was the first reaction, Doctor Harlow took over, gave it more traction. Harlow shaved the scalp, applied a compress, But over the next days, there were signs of distress. Fungi were growing, from the top of his head, Friends were expectant, to hear he was dead. Fetid exhalations and a bulging eye, Comatose reaction, almost waiting to die. Harlow cut his forehead, drained off pus, And Gage’s recovery, began again thus. For the next twelve years, he lived life quite able, Got a job, working in a stable. Then, epileptic seizures came, And his life, they would come to claim. In 1860, on the 21st of May, This "crowbar case” passed away, Injured whilst earning a wage. This was the story, of Phineas Gage.