Doctors

Sara Teasdale

 Next Poem          

Every night I lie awake
And every day I lie abed
And hear the doctors, Pain and Death,
Conferring at my head.

They speak in scientific tones,
Professional and low--
One argues for a speedy cure,
The other, sure and slow.

To one so humble as myself
It should be matter for some pride
To have such noted fellows here,
Conferring at my side.

Next Poem 

 Back to Sara Teasdale
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.