Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Broken Bone

It ain't easy
To do your thing
When one poor arm
Hangs in a sling.

To type at speed
Just won't happen
And forget 'bout
Doing clapping.

You can't raise up
Arm above head
Or roll over
At night in bed.

If you just sneeze
Or cough or wheeze
It sends a pain
Down to your knees.

And an arm load
Of things to bring
Is reduced to
One hand--one thing.

It won't last long
But till I heal
God grant me grace
For this ordeal.

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