The Patient

by Stephen Paden

No one told me to wake up today
and yet I did.
Did the light from the morning sunshine through the skin of my eyelids?
Or is it just timing—an involuntary response to a voluntary action?
And what lies between?
There are no answers,
at least none that I’ve heard.
Some days there isn’t any time
and others……….
……………no end.
But time, through it all, remains the same!
A summer day puts to trial a patient man’s heart,
while a winter sun quickly dies,
leaving us cold, in search of answers that we know are not there;
no, we search for the answers to only two questions—
who am I? … what’s in the syringe?

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