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Click hereyears of studying anatomy,
physiology and pharmacology,
all to earn a pin which old fingers
trembled, failed to attach to a lapel.
but it mattered not; she saw
a dream realized.
then like all good nights, they end.
the sun comes up and we wake.
years of pain, grief and more tears than
could ever be counted; her hand in mine
as a heart stopped. i gave in
and it mattered. the pin sits in a box
with ashes where i found
the dream was hers not mine.
I meant for this poem to be no PC, but, since I forgot to disable them I'll allow them. However, I'm compelled to clarify that this poem is for my grandmother and a career that have both passed on. I miss my grandmother, though don't miss the medical field.