The day has come to open wounds
long healed, but still irate,
The day has come to clear the deck,
of hardware left in place.
I thought the scars and tendon woes
were hazy, distant trials
And yet, the inflammation grows,
I face the next tough mile.
A simple plate, a few steel screws,
Affixed, to heal the bone,
But having served intended use,
Is foreign now, alone.
If all goes well, I’ll soon to sleep,
I’ll wake, the scar will hide
beneath a new, tight, gauzy sleeve,
A plateless leg inside.
A little drama? Maybe so,
But I’m a babe, a shy one,
I’ll suck it in and act ‘macho’,
Take meds until its done.