Chopping off the infected arm
Before the poison does more harm
The hand that swings and the hand that falls
The blood spilled on your overalls
A stain that rain can’t wash away
A pain that slowly fades to gray
Though you lost something you can’t replace
There’s a smile that creeps across your face
What’s done has been done as it had to be done
To ensure your survival was properly won
Though everything’s changed you’re mostly the same
Giving up for a limb would have been such a shame
A Life in Poems 