Silence in the dead of night

Makes my old heart flutter.

Wish it was in a good way,

But alas it’s not.

What to do about this is the question?

For I am afraid to see the doctor

Because of what he’ll say.

That’s the price of being chicken

On this fateful day…

About sandrabranum

I'm a philosopher, dreamer, poet, writer -- not necessarily in that order -- and I get to write it all down and share it with the world thanks to the Wonderful World Wide Web!
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Defibrillate

  1. fhhakansson says:

    The title really adds to the poem here. The artificial qualities of a man-made machine capable of bringing back humans to life through electricity in a way of defying nature and that which we have inherited (as chronic diseases) say a lot about human fate in our society. The fear the narrator experiences from seeing the doctor is also a part of that. The fear of the sudden changes in our society which can isolate an old man or woman.

    • sandrabranum says:

      Thank you for your insightful post. As I wrote the poem, my heart was fluttering and I was trying to calm it down. Blogging helps me when I get upset; actually wine does too, but that’s another story. Regards.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s