Knees

I have withstood the temptation to write about my recent knee surgery (full replacement) or make light of the struggle those like me have with bad knees.  Certainly there are worse problems in the world and rather than risk anyone thinking my pain and discomfort is worse than any others, I decided to keep silent.  Besides, my wife and kids have heard enough.

So, I thought I would try my hand at poetry to share my thoughts on having a full knee replacement and the weeks of therapy to follow.  My thanks to Joyce Kilmer for inspiration.

 

Knees

I think that I shall never see,  A poem painful as my left knee.

A knee whose screaming tendons prest, By sadistic therapists against my chest;

A knee that looks at God all day,  Because I cannot bend down to pray.

A knee that may in Summer wear, Shorts that show the scars I bear.

Upon whose swelling stiffness lain, The moans and groans of a day in pain.

New joints are made by fools like me, But only God can make a knee.

 

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