• masquerade 31w


    When do you know that,
    You're a medico?
    Well when you look at the mirror,
    Eyes puffy, sleepless,
    Dark circles and haunted, hair tousled,
    Skin rough, uncared.
    Then you know you're one of us.

    When age is just a number,
    Knowledge has no limit,
    Everyday is a new challenge,
    When you deal with creatures,
    Who are fragile and weak.
    We'll then you can safely say,
    I'm a medico! YAY!

    You're a medico when you,
    Are attracted towards things,
    That repel normal people.
    Yes, we're abnormal freaks,
    We're braver, though we don't seem,
    We rush to where there is blood,
    Handle wounds, face diseases.

    You know you're a medico,
    When death fails to faze you off,
    It's another old friend,
    An everyday happening.
    And when you suddenly feel you're,
    Cold and distant to death.
    Life moves on, you say.

    You know you're a medico,
    When mosquito is an instrument,
    Aspiration a symptom,
    When staples actually,
    Bind body, not paper.
    When abduction is simply,
    How you move your limbs.

    When feeding reminds you of,
    Ryles tube, nasogastric,
    Elimination is catheter,
    When your life is threatened,
    By something as simple as a needle,
    And well blood, then you understand.
    You're a medico for life.

    Being a medico isn't actually,
    As easy as it seems,
    We aren't people who're idle,
    The amount of responsibility,
    On our head, would have, Crushed another,
    But we continue, going on,
    In a life we were born to be.