Defibrillate

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…

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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!
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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.

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