Withdrawal

No plea for sympathy but the reason for absence of creative thought

Soon I shall on the table lie
Beneath a bright light’s staring eye
As those behind the masks peer down
At one who sinks but not to drown

‘It must come out,’ the doctor said
‘and maybe more if it has spread.’
What could I say? My tongue was tied
With thoughts of those who may have died

But now resigned to what must be
I try to see objectively
And face whatever may befall
With strength I muster to the call