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Understanding Anemia, a poem


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Understanding Anemia

There is a kind of freedom in frailty,

in bodily poverty, endgame & emptiness;

when all that you loved is far away, gone;

all that you live for - removed, distant:

timeless as an old photograph

or gravestone epitaph

For who or what can disappoint you,

hurt you, maim your marred soul

when all of your thoughts turn inward

and all your ideas become either

specific as sputum, bacteria, germs

or airy as philosophical terms

Few things concentrate the mind

like weaknesses of the body;

when your day's goal is to eat well

and not to fall, fade away, in public:

invisible as ghosts or hope

and dead as any dream

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Poetry for Lab Techs, and other Human Organisms :spank:

It is as I would imagine it, and I did the moment I read your mind right here

on the page. Wonderful. Haunting too, in a way. The same way I find

myself taking a deep breath when looking at the red cells of a person with

Sickle Cell Anemia at 50x.

Thanks for your effort, and for sharing.

Tracy

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An enormously affecting poem, concise yet filled with a complex tale to tell. Nothing anemic about these charged words.

I especially liked these lines:

Few things concentrate the mind

like weaknesses of the body

Thanks for this, TR

James

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