Doctors poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of doctors poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on doctors are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
You said “You’re an inspiration” I look at you confused, For the words “She’s a drama queen” are all they ever used. You said “You have such focus” I wonder what you see, For they said I lack direction, don’t
You’re standing there while her body bleeds, Desperation in her eyes, You’ve made up your mind how you should proceed, Just send her home to die. A diagnosis of which you haven’t a clue, The stigma that you attach, Just
“A young, bubbly lass once I saw, Tall, dusky and a charming smile she wore. Like all little girls, she waited in anticipation, Of a handsome young man, Who’d love her like no one. Her little follies he would overlook,
I wanted to write something But my brain refused to spare anything I got agitated and start searching some others’ brain for lending I did get a brain dead man who was sleeping but found him to be still breathing
Little child in me remembers the phantom, Muscular and masked, Penetrating eyes, Outwitting the enemies in a flash, Reading with bated breath; Here I am glued to the screen, Phantoms running and scaling heights, Crawling with creepers around, With little
I felt the warm strengths of gentle motherly grips How swiftly and quietly my last breath here,slips Exact on time, undelayed Out of reach, Lords’ trade My eyes, terribly widened Chilled layer penetrated my yellow body With few words dying
finding ways of running from the one force was getting harder everyday, with no night coming up the hill like it used to. rain still came only enough for plants to make out a week’s menu for those who had
A war has begun, not one of bullet nor bomb, precariously parsed over a landscape of a people, weaker than another, to whom the bomb might be enchanted cries of heavenly lord – gift from God! Level my home. A
Well it just breaks my heart That you can’t be home for Christmas…nobody should have To work on Christmas day but Not everybody sees it my way People make excuses and say It’s not all about the money…yeah Right you
That’s it! Now that’s the stuff! More drugs. Damn doctors, actually believe this is fair? With their fancy and witty mugs: With careless hugs, And their snobby shrugs. The older pretentious ones don’t even have hair, Just cheap and obvious
A 5-year-old girl Throws a chair Because her teacher Doesn’t seem to care About how the girl Can’t sleep at night And nap time in Preschool Was where she might Two years later The girl is seven and she still
Roll up, roll up and welcome to the show Put your mind in neutral and go along with the flow The spin doctors are pumping out another remix on their digital decks Producers and directors using the full palette of
Were alcohol to be available only with prescriptions, imagine what would happen to the alone & the broken hearted? Each moment of loneliness and every second of pain, would have to be accounted for, and measured in units of spirits.
Times are fast flowing taking away that Precious bit of prudence we held so close to soothe A strung up nerve from letting loose. Today, imagine Getting caught At the cross wire of a Boy of ten frail years Asking
Flying through the clouds of an agitating sky she was landed on the shore of despair. Unknown of the tyrannous rapter the angel became wounded by his erroneous desire. Following the winds of fallacy she got lost among the devils.
Firing of neurons accelerates, under the weight of ruthless originalism. A crowd collects the strength of collider and starts throwing back sparks in dark. Each face looks like a spider alighted from alienness: distills terror. The smile was a miracle.
Wading in your memories. Through an orange smoke. Against a mirror, a lake shrinks. Days are smaller now licking the night I will count the candles Of your birthday. A haunted landscape scoops a wedding of a flame with a
She had changed colours to please her eyes her soft sight covers the earth , her fond beauty dumbs the earth , commenting ‘silence ‘. She was green back in her old days , had changed, green to golden .
the first is touch losing touch sense of touch losing softness losing abrasions… in dark amputation… this is how it was, my mother did not die, just detached, gradually less tenuously linked to life, until there was no link… now
Winter topples the sting of muddled tongue. The bottle breaks the stasis of eye. I cede the smile of history. Somebody has left the home. I become my enemy in dark for the acid taste of truth. The moon had
Night is cloaked beneath a shroud As moon does slip behind a cloud Camouflaged, his darkened face Patrols the perimeters of the base Laid low, like snake he slowly slivers As cold night air does make him shiver And yet
I am running behind the golden treasure, Not realizing what is actual pleasure. I am a person with greed in my soul, Not seeing the monster inside this gold. I am not the man who cares for the other, Not