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The Graft

A Pastiche

By Haggar BenPublished 21 days ago 1 min read
The Graft
Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

Alas, the pain was too great!

The dull ache in my bones never ceased, pulsating sickly.

The clock mounted on the wall ticked, further aggravating my nerves.

Anxious for my appointment, my knee was bouncing frantically to the ticking of the clock.

Nervous wreck, perhaps I was. With reason!

Pain, pain, pain! The hurt stemming from deep within my bones was no hallucination.

For once, I was not going insane. Indeed, insanity was my medication.

The ghost haunting my marrow was real! It spread like poison.

It was metastasizing! The madness was fueling the disease.

The final stage.

And now, the end.

performance poetrysurreal poetrysad poetryinspirational

About the Creator

Haggar Ben

I love to dream and let my mind drift off into new worlds and characters.

With the use of this platform, I plan to practice the gift and artform of storytelling.

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Comments (1)

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  • Daphne Sampson10 days ago

    For someone who experiences chronic pain, this really landed for me. Thank you for sharing this dramatic and realistic poem. 

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